I and love and you
by coveredinbees14
Summary: A sequel (of sorts) to "These Small Hours" which was another story inspired by the question, "Is Spot Conlon really dangerous?" Warning: rated T for physical/emotional violence, language, and for the fact that it's a pretty dark story. Not complete (I'm such a liar!)
1. Rise Up

The girl in the bed next to Tay had another coughing fit. The nurse crossed the room in twenty-six steps. Tay counted each cough, each step, anything that would keep her mind occupied. She lay with her back toward the rest of the room and tried not to think of anything but stupid numbers. It was easiest that way. She heard a chair scrape along the floor next and closed her eyes, willing herself to deal with another interrogation by some goody two-shoes nurse.

"Tay." She looked back over her shoulder and saw Spot sitting next to the bed. With a groan she pulled the sheet up over her head even as she realized he actually looked concerned.

"Go away. Please," she pleaded quietly from beneath the bedcovers.

"'Fraid I can't do that, doll," Spot answered matter-of-factly. "What kind of brother would I be if I left my sister alone in the hospital?"

Tay yanked the blanket down and saw the brief look of concern had been replaced by Spot's usual smirk. Her stomach tied itself in knots as she tried to ignore the effect he had on her.

"This isn't how it works," Tay told him. "Don't act like you care."

"Tell me it was an accident," Spot answered with a significant look. Tay shifted uncomfortably as she understood what he was saying. What she had done was illegal and having survived meant taking the chance of being led before a judge and then tossed in jail or worse, a mental ward.

She smiled bitterly. "Upset you didn't get to do it yourself? I guess you would have finished the job properly."

Spot just barely flinched at the poisonous tone of her voice. Tay turned her face away from him as she lied, "It was an accident."

They both knew she was lying. He'd been the one to find her after all. But it was obvious both wanted to avoid the subject and so lying was the easiest choice. She couldn't explain to him what had happened. All she knew was that he'd still won somehow. She had tried hard to keep her secret and failed miserably. The fact that it had been her own fault, his telling her that she had brought this upon herself was what had driven her to such a drastic step. But Tay knew that Spot wouldn't care, it had probably been part of his plan all along. After all, she wasn't worth anything to him.

"Why couldn't you just leave me?"

He grinned wickedly. "Guess I just care too much."

Tay frowned at him. "You're a riot."

"I knew you was in there somewhere," he answered. Spot picked her hand up off the bed and began rubbing her fingertips gently. It was an old habit and Tay felt a familiar heat running from her chest, through her hand, and back again. His grip tightened reflexively as she tried to pull her hand back and regain control.

"You won't change," Tay said, more to herself than to Spot. He didn't answer as Tay closed her eyes and tried not to think about what would come next. There was always the inevitable sting of pain and rejection that would come after she'd been lured back into his trap. But instead of fighting him she left her hand laying in his and ignored the small voice inside that warned her about the price she would have to pay.

"Tay." She looked at him, startled by the tone of his voice. It was almost gentle. He kept his eyes on the bandage covering much of her left arm and if Tay didn't know better she would have said he looked scared. But Spot Conlon did not get scared. Not of anything.

Tay waited expectantly but Spot shook himself slightly and she saw the familiar coldness return. He set her hand back down on the bed and stood to leave. As Tay watched him leave she wondered how much longer she could survive on his few moments of caring in-between the overwhelming moments of cruelty.

* * *

Author's Note: I do not own Newsies. But I do own Tay so there's that. Anyway, if you've stuck with me this far or if you're new to this story I want to say thank you and hope that I haven't made you too crazy or enraged with all the changes. I blame it on being a Libra whose scales are always out of balance ;-) This story is dark, it is raw, and it deals with some rather morbid topics so if you gave it even a tiny chance I owe you many, many thanks! And as always, reviews are welcome and appreciated :-)


	2. Snake Eyes

It had been a long walk to Brooklyn during what Race was sure must have been the hottest part of the day. Even though the sun was beginning to set it was still sweltering. A warning whistle broke through the late afternoon air, two high notes and one low. The boys around Race dispersed quickly as he pocketed the dice and what was left of his meager winnings. He quickly took off in the opposite direction of the approaching bull and made his way down to the waterfront.

God, this place stinks, Race thought as he looked down at the brackish water below. Clearly immune to the smell several Brooklyn newsies were launching themselves off the dock into the water without hesitation. Race followed a sour-faced member of Spot's gang through the maze of docks toward the shack designated as that night's location for the makeshift poker game.

It occurred to him as he entered the room that he didn't have a plan. But it had been two weeks since he had last seen Tay and he was a bit worried. There were bits of broken furniture scattered around the room and Race took a seat at one of the lopsided tables. He pulled a deck of cards from his pocket and began shuffling.

Several of the Brooklyn newsies straggled into the abandoned warehouse but Spot wasn't among them. No doubt he already knew Race was there, Brooklyn newsies didn't know how to be subtle when it came to following people. There was always someone eager to let Spot know when any Manhattan newsie crossed the bridge into his territory. Race tried to keep his focus on the cards, listening half-heartedly to the conversation going on around him. He scanned the room but between the dim candles and the number of bodies in the room it was difficult to see much of anything.

"Help you find something, Higgins?" A familiar voice broke Race's concentration. Spot took a seat across from him as Race dealt a new hand. Spot barely glanced at his cards before throwing some coins into the pot in the middle of the table.

"Just keeping an eye out for cheats," Race replied. A small smirk crossed Spot's face as he picked his cards back up.

"'Fraid Tay ain't interested in talkin' to you," Spot said, not even bothering to look up.

"Is that so?" Race asked as he raised the bet.

"It is," Spot answered evenly.

"I'd rather hear it from her," Race explained as the bets went around again.

"Suit yourself," Spot told him. He nodded to some messenger boy watching from the shadows. The kid disappeared for a few minutes and reappeared with Tay. She stood next to the table with her arms crossed and her lips pressed together in anger as she looked at anyone else in the room except for Race.

"How you been, Tay?" Race asked.

"Fine," Tay answered shortly.

"Enough with the chit-chat. You've seen her, she's fine. Beat it," Spot told Tay, dismissing her with a flick of his head. Race reached out and gently held Tay's arm, feeling her flinch as he did so.

"I ain't finished talking yet," Race told him, getting up from the table. Spot conceded the point and allowed Race to lead Tay through the maze of tables and outside. There were a few people still hanging out but Race led Tay down to the end of a deserted dock.

"So how's it been?" Race said deciding to just start with the reason he showed up that night.

Tay only shrugged. She avoided looking at Race and instead kicked at a loose board on the dock. It was obvious that she was angry.

"Tay, I'm sorry," Race told her quietly.

"What are you sorry for? You didn't do nothin'."

"I don't know, I just thought…" Race's voice trailed off. Tay turned her back on him and stood looking out over the water. Race sighed. "Look, I don't want to fight with you."

Tay edged away further. "Fine, we won't fight no more."

"What happened to you?"

"Ain't your business, Race."

"It's my business if he did somethin' to you, kid."

"Stop calling me that. I ain't a kid no more, Race," Tay told him with her small hands balled into fists at her sides. She faced him with a somber look. "I'm sorry, Race. You don't deserve that."

"Just trying to look out for you," Race smiled.

"You think you can save me? You can't. I don't need saving. Just worry about getting yourself outta here."

"I don't get it, Tay," Race said. He paused for a moment before continuing, "You could have left Brooklyn easily."

"Is there a point in there, Race?"

"Yeah, why didn't you leave?"

"I told you, it ain't your business. I appreciate you tryin' to be a friend, but just let it go, okay? You got your family, Race. Just leave me with mine. What's left of it anyway."

"Christ, kid," Race said with an exasperated shake of his head. "Whatever it is he's holdin' over you, it ain't worth it."

"You ever think maybe I'm tired of fightin' with him? I made my choice so just let me live with it." There was a catch in her voice but her face was passive, resigned.

Race opened his mouth to respond but Spot stepped out into the light and interrupted. "Seems like she's done talking to you, Higgins."

"I don't need your help," Tay told him.

Spot's eyes slid from Race to Tay and a mocking smile crossed his face. "Still think he's worth the trouble? How many times has he stabbed you in the back? But I guess you wouldn't know 'bout him and your brother so we can't count that, can we?"

The world slid slightly out of focus as Race comprehended what Spot had just said. Tay's eyes narrowed as she searched Spot's face for the truth.

"You're drunk."

"I am, but that don't change nothing, doll," Spot answered. "I tried to protect you."

"Enough Conlon," Race spoke up. "I didn't have nothin' to do with that."

"Keep tellin' yourself that," Spot replied. He turned to Tay. "Ask him why Kieran needed money so badly."

"Race?"

"It's not the way it sounds," Race argued but knew it was pointless. Tay was already upset and Race knew it'd be almost impossible to unravel the web of lies Spot was spinning.

"Turns out your dear friend Race here turned your brother onto some not so hot tips at the track. Ended up owing money to the wrong people."

"That wasn't what happened," Race interrupted. He couldn't meet Tay's eyes. "He owed some money but I had nothin' to do with it. He tried makin' that deal with Rook on his own."

"Get out." Her voice was dangerously low.

"Tay, c'mon. You can't believe him."

"I said leave, Race." Tay didn't even look up as she hugged herself tightly and hurried away.

Race moved to follow her and found Spot had blocked his path. Race clenched his hands into fists at his sides as he stood across from the other boy. It took everything in him not to punch Spot right in the mouth.

"You heard her," Spot said without moving an inch and forcing Race to step around him.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Race fumed.

"Say that again?" It was more of a dare than a question and Race knew well what the consequences would be if he stepped any further over the line.

He let out a frustrated breath. "All I wanted to do was make sure she was okay."

"She ain't your concern. Never has been," Spot replied icily.

Race stepped within inches of Spot. "You know I didn't have nothin' to do with her brother."

Spot just stared right back at him. "I know you better get the hell outta my sight 'fore I send you home on two broken legs."

Race knocked Spot's shoulder on purpose as he stormed past but he no longer cared. He wasn't going to waste his breath trying to argue further.


	3. A Quiet Storm

For the first time in his life Spot contemplated the idea that he may have gone too far. Things with Tay were unraveling swiftly but he had never intended to reveal that particular secret. Spot admitted, only to himself, that he was almost jealous of Tay's feelings toward her brother. He knew she would never hold him in the same regard as Kiernan. Why should she? Why did he even care? He certainly didn't need her.

Spot closed the door behind him and leaned against it with his arms crossed. Tay stood with her back to him, her shoulders bowed. He hadn't drunk nearly enough to ignore the pang of regret building inside.

"Is it true?" Her eyes were bright with unshed tears as she faced him.

Spot tried to compose himself. "True enough."

It wasn't the answer he wanted to give. He didn't want to discuss it at all. Every time he turned around she was forcing him to face the past. It was maddening.

"Race woulda told me." Tay twisted her fingers together as she paced in front of him. "I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want, you always do."

"So you're lyin' to me. Again."

"I ain't ever lied to you." His voice was sharper than he intended. Spot dug a cigarette out of his pocket and placed it between his lips. He lit the end carefully and inhaled deeply, trying to cover his irritation.

Tay laughed bitterly. "Just every time you open your mouth."

"He's the one keepin' secrets so don't be gettin' sore at me."

"Why did you do this?"

"I got my reasons."

"Then tell me." It wasn't hard to understand what she really wanted. Both her eyes and her voice pleaded with him to give her something he was incapable of providing. She had changed the rules of the game and it worried him more than he wanted to admit.

Tay waited for an answer as Spot considered his options. This wasn't part of the game. She'd run, he'd catch her. It was what he'd come to expect when they fought. But this time she stood in front of him demanding answers. She had changed, but he could not.

"There's nothin' more to tell," Spot told her flatly. Tay pressed her lips together tightly and reached past him to grab hold of the doorknob but Spot stayed put.

She kept her eyes lowered. "Get out of the way."

"You ain't leavin'."

"Why can't you just let me go?"

Before he could answer she curled both hands into fists and started blindly striking out at his chest and shoulders. He easily caught her she crumpled against him, her body racked by tears. It was so much more than a simple issue of letting her out of the room and they both knew it. Memories came flooding through his mind. Each and every moment he had caused her pain all ending in the night he could not forget. The night he relived over in his mind until he thought he'd go mad.

The frustration tore through him to the point Tay felt his body tense in anger and pushed him away. She wiped tears off her face with the back of her hand. He slid down the wall and sat next to her as she curled up on the floor with her chin resting on her knees. He was reminded of how young she was. And how terribly small.

"Why?" Spot asked as he ran his fingers over her bandaged arm. Since that night a small feeling of panic had eaten away at him every time she was out of his sight. He dreaded the inevitable day she would escape to a place where he could no longer reach her.

"You answer my question, I'll answer yours," Tay answered softly. There was no challenge in her voice but Spot still bristled at the idea that she thought she could tell him what to do. As though she had any ability to get him to do what she wanted.

Rather than give in to her request Spot let the silence between them grow. Tay studied him for a moment and when their eyes met a small, defeated smile crossed her face.

"You can't answer, can you?" He waited for her to continue. She shook her head and stared off at the opposite corner of the room. He had to strain to hear her when she finally said, "I did it because of you."

Tay leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. It was a less than satisfactory answer, but at least it was something. Everything Spot could think of saying turned to ashes in his mouth. He ran his hand through his hair and cursed inwardly. There was nothing he could say to her.

She turned and look at him before shaking her head in disbelief. "You've got this whole city scared of you. The great Spot Conlon. Capable of murder, threats, intimidation but can't face the truth."

"What the fuck do you want me to say? You want to talk about the truth? Fine. The truth is you've been dumpin' your shit on me for two years. You can't face what needs to be done so you expect me to do it for you. And when that don't turn out the way you like, you cry 'bout it."

"I didn't ask you to beat on me. I didn't ask you to take that baby from me," Tay answered hotly.

"The hell you didn't," Spot replied quickly. "What kind of fuckin' fairy tale did you tell yourself, Tay? Did you think you was gonna be able to pawn that bastard off onto some poor slob stupid enough to marry you?"

"Fuck you." He caught her hand just before it connected with his face and held it there as they glared at each other. After a moment Tay jerked away from him and got to her feet with her back turned. "I only ever wanted that one thing. One. And you took it from me. Why?"

"'Cause it wasn't gonna fix nothin', doll. I told you that night what it would be like if you stayed with me. You ain't ever gonna fit in to the kind of world where girls are pure and sweet and don't have the kind of past you're runnin' from."

"You don't know that."

"I know everythin' about you, Anna."

"Don't call me that," Tay told him as she spun around to face him at the sound of her given name. It was a last resort to stop the conversation before it got even uglier than it already was.

Rather than admit defeat, Spot lashed out. "If you want a fuckin' bedtime story, then you'd better go ask someone who actually gives a damn about your feelings."

"I can't do this anymore," Tay told him. The resolve in her voice was thin, almost non-existent but he still heard it.

"It's pretty clear you ain't great at bein' on your own," Spot sneered almost out of habit.

"You made sure of that," Tay countered.

The fear that had been gnawing at him since the night he'd stopped her from killing herself grew into something uncontrollable. Why did she have to be so stubborn? He had apologized the other night. It didn't make up for anything but what more did she expect? Spot had protected her the only way he knew how. He had never promised her anything more than that.

His jaw tightened and he nearly stumbled over the words. "Just stay here with me."

Spot reached to take the bag off Tay's shoulder but her grip on the strap tightened to the point her knuckles turned white and she stepped back away from him.

"Don't touch me," she warned in a low voice. He was used to seeing her in pain, but she had never looked at him with such hatred before. The panic he had felt swiftly changed to anger.

Tay nearly stumbled and fell as Spot grabbed her by both arms and thrust her backwards against the closed door. He placed his hands on either side of her face and forced her to look at him.

"I'm sorry, Liam" Tay stammered. The use of his given name didn't quell his feelings though it was the first time she'd called him that in years.

"You will be, doll. 'Cause you and me? We're done. You're on your own." He yanked her away from the door, opened it, and shoved her out. As Spot slammed the door shut he realized that he had no idea where to go next and it terrified him.


	4. Let Her Go

It was two weeks before Race felt comfortable even attempting to return to Brooklyn. He wasn't sure what kind of welcome, if any, he would receive. For all he knew he might end up swimming home. Race saw the customary look of displeasure on Spot's face as he neared the waterfront.

"Been awhile," Race started as he approached. "Just wanted to see how things are goin'."

"Fine," Spot answered absent-mindedly.

"Holdin' up all right?" Race prompted.

Spot snapped out of his apparent reverie. "Nothin' for you 'Hattan boys to worry 'bout."

It was the closest Race had ever heard Spot come to admitting something was wrong. But he'd long since learned that if Spot had something to say, then he'd say it. But no amount of pestering or questions would get him to budge otherwise.

"Headed out to Sheepshead. Couple of big races today."

"'Fraid our deal is off. My boys are hurtin' for places to sell-"

"Wait a damn minute," Race interrupted. "You're sayin' –"

"I'm sayin' you can find yourself a new corner," Spot replied easily.

Race couldn't believe what he'd heard. It was almost out of the blue except for one small inkling Race had in the back of his mind.

He decided to let it go for the moment. "So you're just goin' back on our deal after all this time?"

"Maybe it's just time for you to stop wastin' your time headin' all the way over here every damn day," Spot argued half-heartedly.

Race snorted. "Yeah, 'cause you're so concerned 'bout anyone but yourself."

Spot sent him a pointed look. "I'm just sayin' it might be in your best interest to stay the hell away for awhile."

"Is that a threat?"

There was no answer. Seeing that there wouldn't be one Race decided to just bite the bullet. After all, his livelihood was on the line. Not that Race imagined angering Spot further would do him any good. But he'd long since figured out that Spot didn't really have a good side to stay on anyway.

"I won't be givin' up that easy."

"This ain't a negotiation, Higgins. You gotta be pretty thick to think you can come over here, start shit, and then just saunter on back when you need money."

"You expect me to fall for that? I think you're really sore 'cause Tay got involved."

"I don't give a shit what you think. Our deal is off."

Race shifted from one foot to the other and back again. He could tell by Spot's tone of voice that his instincts regarding Tay were right. "So where is she? At least let me talk to her 'fore I leave."

"Gone."

The one-word answer sent a shiver down Race's spine as he briefly imagined that Spot had finally taken things too far.

"Gone where?" Race asked hesitantly.

"Fuck if I know. Don't care neither," Spot answered quickly. He turned his back and stared out over the water at a ferry passing by. "I told her to get lost."

"She's just a girl," Race argued.

"Figured that out just now, did ya?" Spot sneered.

Race pulled at his collar impatiently and tried to picture a different way to discuss the situation. Nothing came to mind.

"If you're so worried, go find her. She ain't my concern," Spot suggested.

"So you're just gonna turn your back on everyone?"

There was a long pause. "I ain't turned my back on anyone. You're the one who betrayed her."

"You really are a right bastard, Conlon," Race told him bitterly.

"What are you so sore 'bout? Ain't you the one who was always wantin' her to get free of me? Now she is," Spot replied cooly.

"Throwin' her to the wolves ain't exactly what I had in mind," Race answered irritably. He didn't even bother taking the time to figure out his feelings before he spoke. "She deserves better than that. She loved you."

Spot turned and stood facing Race with his arms crossed. "You come back here again and I'll make sure you regret it."

Race felt like someone had punched him in the gut. He opened his mouth to respond but decided against it. Instead he jammed his hat onto his head and stalked off back toward Manhattan. Despite Spot's ultimatum he planned on being back in Brooklyn by the end of the week, if not sooner. And he was determined to find Tay and figure out just what the hell was going on.

* * *

A trickle of sweat ran down the back of Tay's neck and under the collar of her blouse. A lone ceiling fan spun lazily but did little other than spread the humid air around the cramped storehouse. She watched the junk handler's gnarled and stained hands sort quickly through the bits of scrap metal and rags she had managed to scrape together. He straightened up and turned to face her.

"Worth 'bout ten cents," he muttered around the cigarette clamped between his teeth. Tay nodded in agreement and held out her hand. The man paused and gave her an appraising look.

"Sweet thing like you is wastin' time sortin' junk," he commented crudely. He realized Tay wasn't going to rise to the bait and counted the worn pennies out into her palm. Tay left without a glance backward.

The euphoria of finally being free of Spot had swiftly faded as she realized there was nowhere for her to go and no one to turn to. Only one type of girl was allowed to freely walk the streets of New York and Tay refused to go down that path. The brothels were filled with girls like herself who were too old for the orphanage and not yet old enough to be independent. Most officers on the beat would ignore the truant children who swarmed the streets but there was always the chance that some reformer would come along and start making noise. Girls were expected to have families or at least a husband or brother to keep them in line and off the streets.

Even the cheapest boarding houses cost money and she knew it was only a matter of time before something happened if she continued sleeping out on the street. Factory jobs required things like a home address and references so at first Tay had clung to the areas surrounding the harbor and considered her options.

Tay slid the pennies into the small cloth bag she wore around her neck without bothering to count them. She glanced down at the crumpled paper in her hand and scanned the barely legible writing for the hundredth time that day. Race was persistent, she gave him that much. Boots had clearly blabbed to him about how Tay had come looking for help. At least she could try and get some answers, maybe even a place to stay.

Tay hesitated as she approached the theater Race had provided directions to. Small groups of boys hung out around the entrance, shuffling from one foot to the other and smoking as they waited for the show to start. Race was crouched at the base of the building playing some kind of dice game when Tay found him.

"Got your note," Tay said as she stepped up to where Race was sorting out his winnings. The blonde boy to Race's left let out a low whistle and nudged the curly-haired boy next to him as they edged away.

"Always a pleasure," Race answered as he stood. He gestured to the tall boy who gave Tay a curious glance. "Jack, this is Tay. Tay, this is-"

"Jack Kelly," Tay interrupted. "Jeezus, Race, I live in Brooklyn, not the moon."

Jack frowned slightly. "Brooklyn?"

"As if her sparklin' personality didn't give it away," Race chuckled.

"Look, Race, I know you and Spot have been lyin' to me. So spill it or I'm leaving."

"Well, this just gets better," Jack said. His raised his eyebrows at Race. "Wanna explain how you two know each other?"

Race rubbed the back of his neck. "It's like I said. She's from Brooklyn. I see her sometimes over there. She's friends with Spot."

"Friends?" Tay scoffed. Race shot her a warning look and Tay muttered a curse under her breath.

Race put his arm around her shoulder and steered her away from the rest of the group. He led her down the street and into a small restaurant.

"Sit down, kid," Race offered as he gestured toward the empty seat at the table. "At least let me buy you somethin' to eat. I owe you that much."

"You owe me a hell of a lot more than that," Tay replied as her hunger won out over her anger. She dropped down into the empty chair and looked expectantly at Race.

"It's not like he said," Race began.

"Yeah, I figured that," Tay snapped.

Race pulled at his collar uncomfortably. "There ain't much to tell. Spot didn't lie about the money but I had nothin' to do with it. Kieran owed some people. If it was anythin' to worry about, I didn't know. I figured he just owed a bit here and there. But I had nothing to do with him and Rook. That's the truth."

Tay frowned. "So that's it?"

"I'm sorry, Tay," Race offered. "I wanted to explain earlier."

Something didn't feel right about the story but Tay kept it to herself. She picked at the food in front of her and tried not to think about how scared she really felt.

"Boots said you showed up 'bout a week ago," Race told her. Tay nodded. "You want to talk about it?"

Tay stared down at the plate. "He threw me out."

"I know." Race smiled at the surprised look on her face. "Turns out neither one of us is welcome in Brooklyn at the moment. Guess it won't get any better if he finds out you're here."

"He's not looking for me," Tay explained. Living in Brooklyn had made her capable of figuring out if she was being followed and so far there was no sign of anyone tailing her.

"I take it you ain't got any money. Or a place to stay?" Race asked.

"I got enough to take care of myself." The pennies from that morning would be just enough to buy a bed for the night. Then it would be back to beg, borrow, or steal. Tay hid her hands under the table and traced the raised lines of the scars on her arm with her fingertips. She felt so stupid for having ever believed standing up to Spot would end any other way.

"You want to tell me what happened with him?" Race asked.

Tay shook her head. She could feel the tears beginning to form and kept her eyes down. Race had always been a friend but she couldn't drag him further into the mess she had made. She folded her arms on the table and laid her head down. Since leaving she'd only been able to catch a few minutes of sleep here and there. It was the first time that she'd been able to close her eyes and not see the hurt and anger on Spot's face as he slammed the door shut on her.

* * *

Race watched as the waiters put up the last of the chairs and carried some leftover plates into the kitchen. The room grew dark around them but Race was hesitant to wake Tay. The bell above the door jangled loudly in the silence, startling him.

"Wanna talk about it?" Racetrack's thoughts scattered as a tall, lanky figure approached him. He should have known Jack would notice his absence from the lodge house and come looking for him.

"Not really," Race answered. "But I'm sure that ain't gonna stop you from asking."

Jack took a seat next to him and gestured at Tay. She had curled up against the back of the booth and slept through the interruption. "Guess she finds you just as boring as the rest of us."

"Har har."

Jack gave Race a sidelong look. "Don't exactly remember seein' this particular friend of Spot's around before."

"Maybe she wanted to take in the sights of Manhattan," Race chided.

"And you brought her to Tibby's?" Jack asked with a grin. Race knew they were both avoiding the elephant in the room.

"It's fine dining compared to eatin' rats out on the docks," Race chuckled.

"We don't eat rats, Racetrack," Tay said as she yawned and stretched. She considered Jack for a moment but didn't say anything. Race had a feeling she was sizing him up in comparison to the rumors that had circulated Brooklyn about the Manhattan leader.

"So, you're a friend of Spot Conlon's?" Jack asked and Race tried to subtly get Tay's attention. It didn't quite work.

"That's one word for it," Tay told him. She shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I only came here 'cause I know Race and I ain't gonna cause trouble."

Jack shrugged but Race could see the wheels still turning.

"Spit it out, Cowboy."

"He wants to know if he'll end up in hot water with Brooklyn 'cause of me," Tay spoke up. She gave Jack a small, cynical smile. "Don't worry 'bout it, I ain't that important."

"Just looking out," Jack replied.

"I understand," Tay told him as she brushed off her clothes and moved to stand. She looked over at Racetrack. "I'm sorry I got you into this mess."

"You ain't gotta leave, kid," Race told her.

"I'll let Boots know where to find me," Tay answered.

Race watched her leave and head down the darkened street. He took a few puffs of his cigar before he warned Jack, "It's gonna be hell when he comes to find her."

Jack had a quizzical look. "She just said she ain't that important."

"She lied."

* * *

Author's Note: I can't write Jack...I'm sorry, I never could. So my apologies for sticking him in there and then not really doing anything with him. I just needed a third party kind of thing. Blah. Anyway, thank you for reading and as always, reviews are welcome and appreciated! :-)


	5. It Goes On and On

Race grimaced as he finished reading the track schedule and closed his paper with a flourish, dropping it on top of the others at his side. The distribution center was otherwise empty and he figured he'd waited long enough for the morning crowd to clear out. Race headed through the gate and toward Central Park, still thinking about how much money he could have been winning at Sheepshead.

Since that night at Tibby's Tay had tried to make herself scarce but it hadn't taken long before Race's prediction had come true. Anyone who even tried to enter Brooklyn's territory ended up with a black eye or worse. There were rumblings in the other boroughs that Manhattan was on the outs with Brooklyn.

It had only been the night before when Jack had hinted, again, at Tay going back where she belonged. It wasn't that Race blamed him. After all, he couldn't really expect Jack to stick his neck out for some girl he'd never heard of before.

"Hitting the park again?"

Race looked up to find Tay waiting for him at the fountain where Race usually began his day when forced to sell in Manhattan.

"Just needed a little fresh air," Race explained. The last thing Race wanted to do was stir up more trouble between Manhattan and Brooklyn. The two leaders were on fairly thin ice at the best of times. Race had decided against even attempting to return to Brooklyn. For the most part he'd been trying to keep his contact with Tay to a minimum.

"Sure," Tay said. She fell in step with Race as he worked his way into the park. He took up his usual spot along one of the gravel paths and started offering papers to passers-by.

"I really am sorry, you know," Tay spoke up from where she sat on the ground, picking at blades of grass.

"I know," Race answered gruffly.

"But this partly your fault, you know," Tay said hesitantly.

"My fault?" Race asked incredulously. "You know how much money I'm losing 'cause of you? All I did was try to defend you and got kicked out for my troubles."

"Yes, your fault," Tay continued. "You just had to go and lie to me 'bout Kier. I came here thinkin' you was gonna tell me the truth and now I'm stuck here with nothing."

"What do you mean 'stuck here'?" Race asked as he glared at Tay. "I thought you said he ain't lookin' for you."

"He's not," Tay answered stubbornly. "I don't know what he told them but I ain't welcome anywhere."

Race rubbed his eyes and felt a familiar headache building as he considered this new information. It was clear Spot had still found a way to keep Tay exactly where he wanted her. "What about Queens?"

"Are you not listening? He sent word to every other part of the city and they all want nothing to do with me. I tried Queens already, and Midtown, and the Bowery."

"Well, you been busy," Race joked but the smile died on his face as Tay scowled at him. He sighed. "You ain't even from here so what do they care?"

Tay stared at him with a look of disbelief. "C'mon Race, you're smarter than that."

Race dropped his papers on the ground next to her and took a seat in the grass. He realized Spot needed an out and had found one. By turning the other boroughs against Manhattan, Tay would be unwelcome anywhere. Race knew Jack wouldn't take kindly to his boys being treated poorly on the account of some girl he'd only met once.

"I think you need to talk to Cowboy," Race said finally.

Tay smiled sadly. "I already did. That's why I'm here."

"What'd he have to say?"

"Nothing I didn't already know." Tay had started rubbing at her left arm again the same way she had that night at Tibby's. She pulled a crumpled paper out of her bag. "Do me a favor, will you? Get that note to Spot."

Race went to open the note but Tay's hand covered his. "Don't read it. Please."

"You ever gonna tell me what happened?" Race asked kindly.

"Same thing that always happens, Race. I tried to play his game and lost." Tay got to her feet, brushing loose bits of grass off the back of her dress. "Thanks, Race. I'll see you around."

* * *

That evening Race stormed up the stairs to the bunkroom, spying Jack seated at a makeshift poker table with Blink and Mush. Race crossed the room in what seemed like three steps and tried his best to not flip the table right into Jack.

"You sent her back to him?" Race asked in a tone of disbelief.

Jack looked up calmly from the cards in front of him. "She didn't belong here, Race."

"Fucking hell, Kelly," Race returned as he ran his hands through his hair. "Hope you know you just signed her death certificate."

Blink's eyes widened as he nudged Mush and they both stood and left the table abruptly. Race continued to pace back and forth.

"Never figured you for a turncoat, especially not when it came to some poor girl."

Jack tapped the corner of a card against the table and Race took a deep breath as he realized he'd gone too far. Jack was one of the more mild-mannered leaders but even he had his limits.

"That was low," Race admitted. He took Blink's now vacant seat.

"Look, I was willing to give her a chance here," Jack began. "But she was the one who brought up going back. Said she didn't want to cause any more problems."

"She wasn't causing problems," Race argued bleakly. Even he didn't believe what he was saying. He'd been kicked out, more than one boy had ended up bruised or broken, and there was tension between Jack and the other leaders.

"It was her choice," Jack explained. "I just let her know if she wanted to stay, she could."

There was a long pause as Race considered the implications of Tay returning to Brooklyn. There was still the question of whether Spot would even take her back. He'd gone to an awful lot of trouble making sure Tay still felt his influence, but that was no guarantee he wanted or would even allow her to return.

"You know about her brother?" Jack asked.

"Bits and pieces," Race acknowledged. "They was fighting about it the night he kicked her out."

"There was something else," Jack explained. He fidgeted in his chair a moment and Race was surprised. Jack wasn't normally one for nervous habits.

"What?" Race asked.

"She tried to kill herself."

The air seemed to leave the room and Race's mind spun as he thought back over the rumors he'd heard. The way Tay had behaved on his last trip to see her suddenly made sense. He'd always known something like that would happen. And Tay was willingly headed right back down that path.

* * *

Tay envied Race his pocket watch as she stood and tried to stretch the tension out of her muscles. It had been what felt like hours and she was deciding between continuing to wait and just accepting the fact that Spot wasn't coming. But she had nowhere to go and so she was left with no other option than to keep waiting. She tried to keep track of time by keeping an eye on the sun and watching the crowd of workers returning from Manhattan but a watch would have been nice.

The walkway shifted ever so slightly under her feet and Tay paced back and forth in small circles, trying to swallow her panic. There were too many people. They were all going to end up in the river. At least it kept her mind off the problem at hand.

"Such a stupid idea," Tay muttered to herself.

"Keep talking to yourself, doll, and they'll put you in the nut house." Spot appeared at her side and Tay glanced past him to ensure he was alone. The last thing she wanted was to deal with any of his toadies.

"I didn't think you'd show up," Tay admitted.

Spot shrugged. "I figure whatever you gotta say oughta be good."

"What I have to say?" Tay asked with narrowed eyes. "You threw me out. You're the one who oughta have something to say."

"And you're the one who sent a note," Spot answered and Tay heard a familiar arrogance. He may as well have said that he had won and he knew it.

"I want to come home," Tay practically spat. The last word left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Why should I let you come back?"

Tay stood completely still; unsure of where to go next or what step she was meant to take. Obviously he wanted something from her but Tay could not begin to understand what else she had that he could possibly want.

"Fine. Be that way," Tay told him. She stepped around him but Spot grabbed her arm and jerked her back. Tay tried to pry his fingers away but couldn't escape his grip.

"Where you gonna go?"

"What do you care?"

It wouldn't matter where she went. It was clear that even if Spot didn't want her, he didn't want anyone else to have her. There were far too many skeletons in her closet for Tay to believe that she would be welcome anywhere. Spot knew exactly how to rig the game and anyone she turned to would just become another pawn for him to control and use against her. Even Jack Kelly with all his bravado and charisma knew better than to go against Brooklyn.

It was clear Spot either didn't have an answer or wasn't willing to provide one. Tay felt like ripping her hair out, stomping her feet like a child, and pummeling him until he gave her an answer. But those ideas were childish and would result in nothing.

"Let go," Tay told him. "Please."

He smiled coldly. "Answer the question."

"I'll go back to Race-"

"Race won't help you. He'll put up with you, but sooner or later he's gonna get antsy and start thinking about money instead of his friends. And I just happen to have exactly the motivation Race needs to kick you to the curb."

"Then someone else in Manhattan-"

"Who? Kelly?" The amusement in Spot's tone was clear. "Problem with Kelly is he wants to be liked, admired. That won't be easy when his boys keep going missing or end up getting soaked."

"Why do you even care where I go? All I came here for was an answer and you gave me one. If you don't want me here, then let me leave," Tay snapped. She was at the end of her rope. "You can't threaten every person in this city. Even you ain't got that much power,"

It was the wrong thing to say and she knew it. Spot's face darkened and his eyes sparked with a dangerous, familiar light. Tay felt her heart quicken and tried to take a step back but the metal railing pressed into the small of her back. There was nowhere to go. Spot placed his hands on the railing on either side of her but Tay refused to meet his gaze.

"Don't I?"

There was no response. Spot wrapped his fingers around her wrists and squeezed until Tay visibly winced. But she kept her eyes down.

"Anna. Look at me."

Tay shook her head slightly. He couldn't do this. She would not give in. Not again.

"Still so stubborn," Spot commented. "I want an answer. Why should I let you come back?"

Silence.

Tay fought against the tide of feelings that threatened to overwhelm her. Spot twisted his fingers up into her hair and pulled her head back. Tay opened her mouth to protest but Spot was quicker. He covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply. Tay tried to push against his chest but soon stopped struggling. She couldn't keep her thoughts straight. She tried to remind herself that it was a game. There was no truth in any of it.

Tay finally lifted her eyes and looked at him. A flood of memories hit her, making her dizzy as she finally allowed herself to face what it was that he wanted from her.

"Because I love you."

* * *

Author's Note: OK, so this should be the last chapter to have old stuff in it (fingers crossed!). Thanks for coming along thus far :-) Might be awhile before another update because I've got Circulation 4 to work on (looks like a good one!). As always, reviews are welcome and appreciated! Thank you for reading!


	6. Head Full of Doubt

The sounds of the nearby shipyard coming to life woke Spot from a dreamless sleep. He crossed his arms under his head and stared up at the ceiling, listening to Tay's quiet, even breathing as she lay with her back turned towards him.

Spot knew she was awake. It was the way she held her body rigid as she avoided touching him. At night it was a different story. The nightmares would take hold of her and she would reach out, unknowingly. Those were the nights he would awaken to find her arm draped across his chest or feel her hand clinging to his. He never failed to see the irony of knowing he caused her nightmares but he was also the one she turned to for comfort. But he knew that, more often than not, he could no longer relieve her pain. He only caused her more.

They had come to an unspoken agreement to not talk about what had happened on the bridge, but that didn't make things any less tense between them. The honeymoon period, if it could be called that, lasted about half a day before the arguments started back up. At least Tay tried to argue, tried desperately to rebuild the walls that could no longer keep him out. Spot had watched with amusement as she tried to avoid him, to steel herself against the fact that he'd finally been able to get her to admit what he'd known all along.

"It'd be so much easier if you just listened to me. Then we wouldn't have to play these little games," Spot began. Tay acted as though he wasn't there and stared at the wall. He smiled to himself; he was used to her trying to ignore him.

"Didn't think you'd take it this hard. It ain't like I didn't already know," Spot told her. Tay shifted irritably. It was almost too easy. He only had to find the right button to push. "What'd you think was gonna happen?"

"I don't know," Tay muttered, still facing away from him.

"You don't know," Spot mocked. "That's you, doll. Always thinking ahead."

Spot reached over and ran his fingers through the tangles in Tay's hair. "Did you really think you could get any of them to care about you?"

Tay tried to twist away from his touch but there was nowhere else to go. "Don't you have somewhere to be? Your little gang won't know what to do if you ain't there."

Spot's hand instinctively closed around Tay's hair and wrenched her neck back until he heard her whimper in pain. "Maybe, just this once, you could not let your mouth get you into trouble."

"Why did you lie to me about Kieran?"

_Fuck._ Spot let go of her and Tay quickly twisted around to face him. Spot avoided looking at her, choosing instead to search through his pockets until he found a battered cigarette. He lit it and took a drag before offering it to Tay. She pushed his hand away.

There had been a number of lies he'd told her about her brother. It was a loaded question and he had no idea which lie she was referring to. All he knew was that Kieran was the last person he wanted to talk about. But he had been the one stupid enough to open that door in the first place.

"I told you to ask Higgins."

"I did," Tay said sharply. "He said he had nothing to do with it. He wasn't even there that night."

"And you believe him?"

"I believe him over you."

Spot blew a stream of smoke up toward the ceiling and watched it lazily. "Why are you bringing this up now? It don't matter anymore. It's over."

"You ever gonna tell me what really happened to him?"

Spot sighed. "You know what happened, Tay."

"I know he's dead. I know you was there. Just tell me," Tay pleaded.

"Some other time maybe." He'd only just managed to draw her back to him and there she was basically asking him to send her straight over the edge.

"I am so sick of both of you," Tay grumbled as she sat up and leaned her back against the worn metal bed frame. She took the cigarette from Spot's hand and he noticed how her hand shook when she handed it back. Spot knew exactly what would happen if he told her the truth about her brother. It wasn't a risk he wanted to take.

"Race told me somethin' and it's been botherin' me ever since. He said you woulda done it even if I had never asked you to. Is it true?"

"You know what your problem is? You can't let go of the past. How the hell am I supposed to know what woulda happened if things was different? I can't change anything now."

"But would you?"

"No."

The conversation was on the brink of going way too far and he debated between ending it or just letting her finally discover what he'd hidden from her all that time. The same frustration he felt was visible in Tay's eyes as they sat inches from one another.

"He never woulda let you treat me like this," Tay said scornfully. "Bet he never figured the person I'd need the most protection from would be you."

"Enough, Tay," Spot snapped. "Unless you want to talk about why you came to me instead of him."

"Don't you dare." Her face was pained but Spot felt no sympathy. He had given her plenty of time to change her mind and break the deal they had agreed to. When Tay stuck to her decision Spot realized she had a darkness about her that matched his own. It was her inability to give up on trying to maintain some semblance of goodness that frustrated him.

"Maybe the problem is you're the only one stupid enough to stick around no matter what I do." It was just another attempt to hurt her. And from the look on her face he could tell his comment had hit the mark.

"Must have really broke your heart to throw me out like garbage," Tay answered sarcastically.

Spot gritted his teeth and tried to keep his voice even. "I didn't throw you out. I asked you to stay and you told me off for it so don't come cryin' to me 'cause it didn't work out."

"You know what I realized? That you been settin' me up to fail since we met."

"Like I got time for that shit," Spot told her dismissively.

"You never wanted me to make it without you. You scared off everyone 'cause you want to have someone to torture. I bet you're happy Kieran got killed. All of this that you're so fuckin' proud of woulda never happened otherwise."

"I told you that's enough," Spot warned.

"It's true, ain't it? You always hated each other."

"No," Spot answered. "I didn't have nothing to do with him dying and you know it."

"Tell me the truth."

"Anna."

"Don't." Tay shoved his arm away as he reached for her hand.

Spot leaned back next to her and closed his eyes. Two years worth of silence and hiding and lying awake at night hoping that day would never arrive. He had done so much harm to her in those two years. He lied to himself and said it was for her protection. It was all about to tumble down around them both.

"He sold you, Anna." Spot's voice was raw when he finally spoke.

Tay sat perfectly still. "What?"

"Kieran sold you. Well, he tried," Spot explained slowly. "I didn't lie about the money. He owed a few people. Rook was one of them."

"He wouldn't have done that," Tay said weakly. "You're just lying again."

"I know you got no reason to believe me, but it's true. Ask Race. He's the only one I ever told the whole story to," Spot explained.

"What's the whole story?"

"You don't need…"

"What is the whole story, Liam?" Tay asked softly.

"You knew how he was kind of like Race?" He paused until Tay nodded once and continued, "He started gettin' in over his head. Playin' in bigger games and owing more and more. He and Rook got into it a couple of times over Kieran borrowin' money all the time but the warnings didn't take. There are places where they pay good money for girls. The younger the girl, the more…that don't matter. You gotta know he was drunk. He weren't in his right mind. Kieran went to Rook with the idea and they started arguing over how much you was worth…"

"Stop," Tay pleaded. "Stop talking."

She folded her arms over her stomach and gasped for air. Spot wrapped his arms around her and continued to hold her even as Tay's anger and frustration and turned her savage. She tried twisting away from him, clawing and kicking as she cursed and screamed into his shoulder, finally breaking down into tears.

* * *

The pale moonlight shone through the small, grimy window and illuminated the small room where Spot sat with his head in his hands as he struggled to control his emotions. It had been two weeks since Tay had said a word to him. Spot would have told anyone who bothered to listen that it didn't matter in the slightest if she talked to him or not. But that would have meant Spot would have to admit he thought about it at all and that was just not a possibility.

She had cornered him and he was still trying to get over the fact that he'd let slip the secret he'd planned on keeping from her forever. A small voice inside told him that was just another lie. The problem was that telling her had not had the result he'd planned on. Spot figured that Tay finding out what Kieran had done would cause her to turn to him more than ever before. In reality Tay retreated within herself and had cut off contact with Spot.

The smell of food hung in the air as the newsies outside rummaged through the spoils of their earlier raid at Wallabout. A knock at the door surprised him and he expected to see one of the boys offering up some kind of leftovers. Instead, Tay stood outside the door as he opened it. He simply moved to one side and allowed her to come in.

"You need somethin'?" he asked as he closed the door behind her.

There was no answer. Tay gathered the front of his shirt in her fist and pulled Spot to her. Each kiss was angry and violent as Tay clung to him. He swore he could taste the bitterness on her tongue. Her fingers dug into his flesh and he felt her skin bruise from the force with which he held her. Spot only briefly attempted to contain the longing he felt as her body rose and fell underneath him.

There was no back and forth. For once, he let her frustration and hurt wash over him without worrying about control or who had the upper hand. It was the only way he felt he could take responsibility for what he had done, for the chaos he had created within her.

Later, when the storm had passed, Spot reached down and ran the tips of his fingers over the scar on her back. It had come from the broken glass of the basement window where they'd spent their first night together. The rush of emotions from earlier had played out and he felt exhausted.

"I'm sorry." The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Tay didn't say anything as she swallowed his lies without hesitation. "Want to tell me what this was all about?"

Tay lifted her hand and fingered the key that lay on his chest. "I don't want to talk, Spot."

"We don't have to talk right now, but you're gonna have to sometime."

Spot had always told himself Tay was never meant to survive the things he did to her. But he had never expected this kind of trauma. He was a fool.

He took hold of her wrist and placed his hand over the angry red scars that lined her arm. "My ma drowned herself. Put stones in her pockets. Guess she thought it'd keep her down or somethin'. Didn't work. They found her body washed up near Red Hook." Spot tried to keep his voice light, as though he was commenting on the weather.

Tay sat up and reached down to the bottom of the bed for his shirt which she pulled up over herself. She gazed at Spot for a long moment. "I'm sorry."

He rebelled against the sound of pity in her voice. Tay's ability to draw out his vulnerabilities had always been something Spot struggled with. "It was a long time ago. It's over."

Spot reached out and ran his hand over her hair, catching his fingers in the tangles. It was a mistake. He felt Tay's body stiffen the moment he touched her and dropped his hand back down by his side. The moment for tenderness had clearly passed.

Tay twisted the shirt material around her fingers. "Why didn't you tell me about my brother before?"

"'Cause that wasn't somethin' you needed to know about him."

Spot propped the pillow under his head and Tay switched positions so that she was kneeling on the bed alongside him.

"Tell me again. About that night," Tay requested.

"No."

"How did you find out that's what they fought about?" Her voice was quiet but needy and Spot began to feel a spark of annoyance grow inside his chest.

"Askin' it different ain't gonna make me tell you," Spot explained shortly. The blanket ripped as he tugged at it irritably.

Tay had learned to recognize his sharp change in moods and there were a few moments of silence. The mattress jostled slightly as Tay laid down next to Spot and he realized she was being careful not to touch him.

Spot let out a string of curse words under his breath. "I was there, okay?"

For a moment he thought she was going back to giving him the silent treatment before he heard her respond. "Okay."

It wasn't over yet. Spot stared up into the dark and waited.

"Why didn't you do the same thing? Why didn't you try and sell me?"

It was the perfect opportunity but Spot could not get the words out. He wasn't sure he wanted to explain it even if he could. So he fell back on old habits.

"Are you sayin' you think I didn't try? Maybe nobody wanted you."

"Nobody does." Tay's voice was icy. It was not the response he thought he'd hear from her. He opened his mouth to refute her but Tay cut in. "I thought if I could just get out from under you, I'd have a chance. But all I am is one of Spot Conlon's girls. It don't matter where I go, all I got is sellin' papes and you. I don't fit in anywhere. I hate it. I hate you."

Tay's voice broke on the last word and he heard her muffled crying as she faced away from him. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him gently. Eventually her tears subsided and he lay awake for the rest of the night, listening to her deep, vulnerable breathing.


	7. The Weight of Lies

Author's Note: About a three/four month break between the last chapter and this chapter, just FYI. Enjoy and thank you for reading!

* * *

The mirror in front of Spot shook slightly as something or someone landed up against the wall on the other side. The glass had already been cracked at least twice so it didn't really make a difference. Spot ignored the muffled sounds of revelry in the adjoining room as he inspected the series of bruises along his ribcage. He didn't feel an ounce of regret as he surveyed the damage.

The temperature dropped as a rush of cold air filtered the room and Spot turned to see Tay slip through the open window. Clumps of snow fell to the floor as she unwound a scarf from around her face and puddles of water formed around her boots which she slipped off before entering the room further.

"We're going to have to talk about your preferred method of getting into the lodging house," Spot remarked before turning back to the mirror. He picked up the roll of bandages he'd stolen from the infirmary and held them out to Tay. "Here. I need your help."

Tay silently wrapped a bandage around the gash on Spot's arm and knotted it with more force than Spot believed was necessary. He thought back with satisfaction over the fight that had caused the injury. It had been short and sweet, the kind of fight that always seemed to improve his mood.

Spot noticed Tay's hair was damp from the snow and the thin sweater she wore over her dress gave her no protection from the elements, leaving her skin ice-cold. Spot rummaged through the small trunk at the foot of his bed and tossed a shirt and pair of trousers onto the bed.

"Put 'em on," he told her.

Tay looked surprised by his generosity and hesitated.

"Go on. Ain't gonna do me much good if you freeze to death," Spot kidded.

"Don't look," Tay told him.

"Since when do you care if…"

"Just turn your back. Please," Tay said as she picked up the dry clothes. Spot gave in to her request although he wondered what brought on her change in attitude. Tay had never been particularly shy, it was somewhat of a luxury to expect privacy in their world, but he figured it was just another one of her moods.

When Tay had finished dressing she took a seat on the edge of his bunk and flipped aimlessly through the small pile of papers on the table next to the bed.

"So how's things at the girls home?" Spot asked.

"I hate it there," Tay answered in a flat voice.

Spot smiled in spite of himself. "Least they let you stay after the last time when you almost burned down the kitchen."

Tay picked his slingshot up off the table and ran her fingers over the nicks in the wood. "You remember when I gave this to you?"

"'Course I remember. But that ain't what you came all this way to talk about," Spot replied knowingly. He couldn't believe he'd almost forgotten what night it was. But that came from the fact that so many other things went on that he no longer thought much about the night Tay's brother died, unless Tay brought it up.

"It's the sixteenth."

"I know."

"You was there, right?"

"You already know that I was." Spot seated himself on the opposite side of the bed and tried to ready himself for another trip down memory lane. He had hoped that if he ignored her requests long enough Tay would lose interest and stop asking questions. It hadn't worked.

"Why didn't you do anything?" Spot was surprised to hear her ask something she'd never brought up before.

"I didn't know what was going to happen."

"Who started the fight?"

"Don't know."

"Who got hurt first?"

"Don't know."

Tay turned and looked at him over her shoulder. "You promised."

Spot shifted uncomfortably and leaned back against the bunk. "Don't start with that shit. I told you what happened so I already kept my promise, doll."

Tay fell silent for a moment. What he'd told her was only partly true and it was the other half of the story that he knew would come out and possibly destroy them both.

"I asked you to make sure he was okay," Tay told him.

"And I told you that night that I wasn't some bodyguard for your brother," Spot pointed out. He felt his good mood from earlier draining away.

"Did you kill him?" Tay stared across the room, unable to look at him as she asked.

"What?"

Tay took a breath and turned to face him completely. "Did you kill my brother?"

"You know damn well I didn't kill him," Spot argued.

"Then I want the whole story," Tay answered simply. "'Cause I asked Race, and Jack, and every single kid I could think of and no one else knows what happened. So you're going to tell me or I'm gonna let every bull in this city know about you."

Spot felt both admiration and rage as he listened to her make a futile attempt at blackmail. It was common knowledge every bull in the city only needed a few dollars to look the other way, and she certainly wasn't going to win anyone over with some half-baked accusation about a no-name kid who had been killed two years ago.

"You'd think all that time you spent watchin' Race that you woulda learned something," Spot commented dryly.

"Race don't have nothing to do with this," Tay snapped.

"Maybe not, doll. But he knows better than to bet all his money at one time. You really think threatening me is gonna make me tell you anything?"

"Seems like your favorite way of doing things," Tay answered. She reached up and started fiddling with her braid, unknotting and retying the ribbon she had wrapped around the end.

"What do you want, Tay?" Spot asked tersely. "You want me to tell you that there was nothing I could do? That he was dead before I got there? Or would you rather me tell you that I killed him so you can feel better about blaming everything on me?"

"I just want the truth," Tay told him. "You said you was there and that he was in a fight and that he tried to sell me. But I know there's more."

"There ain't," Spot lied. Almost all of what he had told her about that night was true. He had been there and there had been a fight involving Tay's brother. But the truth was Kieran hadn't just tried to sell Tay, he'd done it. Spot had witnessed the entire transaction between Rook and Kieran. Although Spot hadn't delivered the final blow, he had instigated the fight between Rook and Kieran. The idea that Tay would spend the rest of her days being passed from one man to another was repulsive. Spot had already made the mistake of falling in love with Tay and that night he made the mistake of not going to the aid of her brother.

"You did something that night," Tay told him. "You wouldn't have been hiding it all this time if you hadn't."

"He sold you," Spot replied coldly, "and you still act like he was a fucking saint."

Tay bit at her bottom lip and frowned at him. "At least _he_ never killed anyone."

"I shoulda let Rook have you," Spot told her. Tay's eyes widened in shock and he quickly realized his error. Before that night he'd always acted like Kieran had tried to sell her, but he'd never said to who or that he'd been successful.

"You said…" Tay's voice trailed off as she stared at him.

"There you go, doll. You wanted the truth," Spot answered, trying to keep his voice light.

"That's what Race meant," Tay said quietly, almost to herself. "You didn't need me to help go after him. You would have killed him anyway."

"Maybe," Spot said with a shrug.

"You made me think I was the one who wanted revenge. You made me set up the meeting and get him drunk and…"

"I didn't make you do nothing you didn't already want to do," Spot interrupted.

Tay got to her feet without a word and crossed the room to the window. She laced her boots back onto her feet and stood back up.

"I'm going back to the boarding house and getting my things and then I'm gone, you hear me? Don't you dare send anyone after me and I don't ever want to see your face again."

Spot rolled his eyes and didn't even bother getting up. "C'mon Tay."

"I'm serious. Don't you ever speak to me again. Like you told me before, you and me? We're done."

Before Spot could even respond Tay had flung the window open and disappeared out into the falling snow.


	8. Everything that's Broke

Author's Note: So just about 80-85% of this is new and will be new until the story is complete. When will that be? Who knows? Not me ;-) Thank you to Emador for your sweet review! Thank you for reading and enjoy!

* * *

Race tugged his pillow down around his ears and tried to ignore the sound of Blink snoring in the bunk above his. There were any number of newsies who snored but Blink seemed determined to outshine them all. Race tossed his pillow away in frustration and tried to swallow the urge to kick at the mattress above. Instead, he pulled his suspenders up over his shoulders and headed downstairs to peace and quiet. Race noticed the door was ajar and assumed that Kloppman must have been expecting a few more boys to show up before the night was over. He took a look outside and noticed a familiar face sitting in the snow on the stoop.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Race asked, causing Tay to jump at the unexpected sound of his voice.

Tay held tightly to her jacket and got to her feet. "Sorry. I'll go."

"That's it? Three months without even sending me a word, a note, nothing? And now you're gonna leave?" Race steered her inside and pushed her into one of the chairs in the lobby.

Tay glanced around fearfully. "I don't want trouble."

"Kloppman's a good man. Don't hear so good sometimes," Race explained. Kloppman had always been kind about turning a blind eye to some of the newsies antics and putting up with late night visitors was just another one of those times.

"You know I got soaked 'cause of you," Race pointed out in the awkward silence.

"I guess he's mad," Tay said in a guilty voice.

Race rolled his eyes. "You guess he's mad? Are you kiddin' me?"

"I'm sorry, Race," Tay told him.

"You're sorry?" Race asked, incredulous. "You disappear without a word while he turns this whole city upside down looking for you and that's all you can say?"

"I told him to not to look for me, I don't want to see him again. Ever," Tay explained. "He lied to me about everything, Race."

Race about bit his tongue in half trying not to point out that she'd always known Spot was a liar. But she looked so pathetic and troubled that he didn't have the heart.

"What'd he lie about?" Race finally asked after a long silence. "That thing about your brother?"

"Yes," Tay whispered in a tearful voice. She looked up at him. "He finally told me that Kieran sold me to Rook. But that whole time he made me think killing Rook was all my idea. He made me think Rook had to go, because of what he'd done to Kieran."

Race studied her. "No offense, kid, but it seems like your brother was in over his head."

Tay shifted uneasily. "You sound just like him."

"Seems like he was trying to protect you," Race added lamely.

"Can we please not talk about it anymore?" Tay asked.

"All right. How 'bout you tell me where you been?"

Tay sighed deeply. "I can't tell you 'bout it, okay?"

"Well we're running out of conversation, kid," Race kidded as he took a seat in the chair opposite and tapped a matchstick on the arm.

"I need your help," Tay admitted.

Race held the matchstick in mid-air for a moment. "You need my help? How 'bout you just push me in front of a trolley? It's quicker than what'll happen if he finds out I'm helping you."

"Please, Race. I just need one thing from you." Tay rummaged through her bag and held out a piece of paper. Race took it and noted the address scrawled across the top.

"You need a place to stay? 'Cause the Elizabeth Home ain't that far," Race told her.

"They won't take me," Tay said. She tugged her jacket closer around her body. "Not anymore."

"So what is it you want me to do with this?" Race asked, gesturing to the paper.

"That girl Kelly is dating, she does piece-work, right?"

"Sarah? Yeah, I think so," Race said.

"That's the factory where the pieces come from. I need a job there," Tay explained. She took the paper back from Race and tucked it back into her bag.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?"

"'Cause she ain't gonna talk to some Brooklyn girl off the streets." Tay got to her feet and reached over to grab Race's hand, squeezing it gently. "Please, Race. I can't be out there anymore."

"All right," Race told her. "But you better grow a set of eyes in the back of your head. He ain't gonna let this go easy."

"I know," Tay smiled softly as he gave her the very advice she had once given to him. Her look turned serious. "But he can't have this one too."

* * *

Race strained his eyes in the dim light while trying to read the list of help wanted advertisements in that day's paper. The problem was the advertisements asked for a particular kind of girl. All asked for certain ages, or races, or from certain backgrounds. As far as he could tell Tay wasn't suited for any of those jobs. Race tossed the paper onto his bunk in frustration and glanced over to where Jack was busily engaged in conversation with Bumlets. It had been three days since Race had seen Tay and he was still working up the nerve to ask Sarah for her help. He knew that the best way to get in touch with Sarah was through Jack.

When Race saw Jack bum a cigarette off Bumlets he decided to just take a chance and followed Jack up to the roof. Kloppman had never allowed them to smoke indoors for fear of the house going up in flames from a dropped or forgotten cigarette.

"Hey Race," Jack said as he brushed the match along the crumbling brick and cupped his hand around the flame, holding it to the end of the cigarette.

"Jack," Race returned before lighting his own cigar.

They smoked for a moment in companionable silence while Race tried to rack his brain for a way to bring up the favor he needed to ask. It turned out he didn't have to wait long.

"Spot Conlon came to visit me today," Jack commented without looking at Race.

"Son of a bitch," Race cursed under his breath. "What'd he want?"

"Funny, he told me to ask you that question," Jack answered.

"You can tell him I ain't had nothin' to do with Tay since the strike ended," Race said abruptly.

Jack turned his head toward Race in disbelief, "This is about that girlfriend of yours?"

"More like a sister," Race corrected as he drummed his fingers nervously on the wall that divided the lodge house from the bookshop next door.

"A sister, huh?" Jack gave Race a sidelong look. "First she's a friend, now she's a sister."

"Bit of both," Race admitted. He bit fiercely at the end of his cigar. "Spot have anything else to say?"

Jack ground his cigarette out against the crumbling brick. "Guess he figures you have somethin' to do with her. And seeing how mysterious you been lately, I can't say he's wrong."

"She's needing me to do her a favor but the thing is I'm gonna need your help," Race explained. He continued hesitantly. "And Sarah's."

"Quite a charity case you got there," Jack answered. "Needing three people to do one favor."

"Look, you ain't gotta do it. Neither does Sarah. I know you don't nothing about Tay," Race told him. "But she needs a job, just someplace to get her off the streets for the winter."

"And they ain't got jobs in Brooklyn?"

"You was the one who sent her back into that hell in the first place," Race reminded him. "You really want to do it again?"

Jack put his hands up in mock surrender. "Look, I ain't saying she's gotta spill her life story. But if I'm going to ask Sarah to get involved with this girl I'm gonna need more than she's just a friend or some girl that needs a job."

Race took a deep breath and tried to think about how to explain Tay to Jack. In the end it wouldn't make any difference what Jack did with the information. So he explained to Jack everything he knew about Tay, about Spot, and about the night she had shown up at the lodge house practically begging for help.


	9. Pure Illusion

The snow had started falling that morning and the air was still as Spot shuffled through the dusting of white. The river, the docks, the city – nothing was providing the usual comfort Spot had become used to. He knew Tay would run to Racetrack. So predictable. Manhattan was a haven for outcasts from the other boroughs. Spot stalked down an icy street and his already foul mood didn't improve any as he thought about the time he'd spent trying to track Tay down. But that day he'd been lucky enough to get some information that would hopefully steer him in the right direction. The only problem was the person who he needed to talk with was David's sister, Sarah. It wasn't exactly a conversation he was looking forward to.

"Sarah Jacobs," Spot smiled, approaching her as she exited the building where her family lived.

Sarah kept her hand on the door and Spot could tell she was uneasy. They'd only met a few times and it was clear his presence was unexpected.

"Don't worry, I only want to talk," Spot explained easily. "Of course, if you think Jacky-boy would have a problem with you and me talking…"

"I can take care of myself, thank you," Sarah told him primly. She closed the door behind her and carefully made her way down the icy steps to where Spot stood. "What exactly did you want to talk about?"

"I was kinda hoping we might talk someplace a bit warmer," Spot told her as he eyed the darkening sky. It looked like another storm was brewing and he didn't relish the idea of having a conversation in that kind of weather.

"Like a bar?" Sarah asked with a hint of a smile.

"Not quite. Wouldn't want you to tarnish that sterling reputation," Spot answered knowingly as he led her toward one of the nearby lunch counters. Spot followed the waitress with his eyes as she walked across the room after taking their order. She was fairly pretty but he wasn't in the mood to waste his time on another distraction.

"You never give up, do you?" Sarah joked as she noticed his gaze linger on the waitress.

"Not all of us are gentleman like Jacky-boy," Spot returned.

Sarah's face clouded at bit at the mention of Jack's name. Spot knew there was trouble on that front as Sarah had become more interested in the suffragette movement than she was in playing girlfriend to Jack. Since the strike there had been a series of blowups between the two as Sarah became determined to improve the lives of women and girls in the city.

"I believe you and I have a mutual friend," Sarah told him somewhat abruptly as the waitress dropped off their orders. Sarah stirred her coffee carefully before placing the teaspoon on the table. "I assume that is what you would like to discuss."

Spot had never particularly liked to be second-guessed and to have his intentions so easily discovered irked him to no end. He'd spent so much time and effort trying to keep up appearances after Tay had left but it didn't seem to make any difference if Sarah Jacobs could figure him out so easily.

"Of course, I'm not sure how comfortable I feel talking with you about her. Considering your treatment of her in the past," Sarah commented with a significant look.

Spot just smirked. "If that was true, you woulda told me to beat it. But instead you're sitting here talking to me so ain't no need to pretend like it bothers you all that much."

"Oh, it bothers me a great deal," Sarah corrected. "But I'd like to hear what you have to say before I get into that."

"I'm sure she's already told you some kind of sob story," Spot replied. "Unless she's still using Higgins as a mouthpiece."

"I'll admit most of my information came from Racetrack. Tay is, well, less than talkative."

"She don't trust people," Spot explained with a shrug. "And she ain't never got along with other girls."

Sarah just smiled. "I wonder why that is."

Spot was unsure of what his next step should be. It was a strange feeling and he didn't exactly relish the idea of confiding in a girl like Sarah but he knew there was little choice.

"Must have thought it was pretty strange that some girl from Brooklyn came looking for you," Spot mentioned.

"I suppose," Sarah answered. "It doesn't seem that she was given much of a choice."

"She left on her own," Spot pointed out. He tapped a cigarette on the table and tried not to give in to the impulse to light it. "I never told her to go to you."

"So what are we doing here?" Sarah asked. "You don't seem terribly troubled by her leaving."

He felt a hint of admiration for her straightforward approach and began to feel more at ease knowing Sarah wasn't going to take the same approach as other girls. Spot pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and laid it on the table in front of Sarah.

"You already helped get her a job," Spot began. "But she's been sleeping on the streets at night and I need you to convince her to stay at this place."

Sarah read the handwriting scrawled across the paper. She gave a quizzical look to Spot. "But this is a…"

"I know," Spot cut her off. "I got some pull there but if she knows it's me helping her, then she'll bolt."

"I barely know her," Sarah told him. "Maybe Racetrack would be more help."

"Race don't know," Spot answered. "That's why I came to you. You're smarter than Kelly gives you credit for, Sarah."

Sarah blushed slightly but gazed steadily at Spot. "You know, boys are so blind sometimes. How long did it take you to figure it out?"

Spot pulled out his box of matches, lit one, and held it to the tip of his cigarette. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he exhaled a stream of smoke toward the ceiling. "The night she left."

"Is it…?" Sarah asked but her voice failed her. He knew she was hesitant to even discuss such a matter, especially in public.

"Yes." Spot carelessly flicked cigarette ash onto the floor before meeting Sarah's curious stare. "Some of us ain't as blind as you think."

He slid his chair back away from the table and waited for Sarah to do the same. Her prim and proper attitude from earlier seemed to have disappeared during their conversation but reappeared easily as they approached the exit.

"I ain't saying it's gonna be easy," Spot told her before they parted. "If you end up needin' anything, just send a runner to me."

"You know, she misses you," Sarah said hesitantly.

"I miss her, too," Spot admitted before turning his collar up against the bitter wind and heading back in the direction of Brooklyn.

* * *

The usual lunchtime crowd filled Tibby's and the noise was deafening. Tay scanned the room and saw Race over in a corner booth, shuffling his worn deck of cards absent-mindedly as he ignored the chaos around him. His eyes flicked over to the door each time it opened but Tay had come through the kitchen to the annoyance of a few of the waiters. It hadn't been her fault. Race had been the one who wanted to meet at one of the most obvious locations in Manhattan. Coming in the back way just meant she could avoid drawing attention to herself.

Of course that didn't seem likely one of the people she was trying to avoid, Sarah Jacobs, was seated at the table by the door. Tay took advantage of the fact that Sarah was facing away from her and slid across the room toward where Race was sitting.

"You're late," Race said irritably as Tay took a seat across from him. He piled the cards back together and stuck them in his pocket.

"Lost my watch," Tay told him sarcastically. She eyed what was left of his lunch. "You gonna eat that?"

Race rolled his eyes and shoved his plate toward her. "You know, you could just buy your own."

"I could," Tay answered as she made quick work of the leftover sandwich.

Race watched blandly as she finished eating and pulled a harmonica from his vest pocket before setting it on the table in front of her. She had lifted it earlier that day as a present for Sarah's kid brother, Les.

"Nice harmonica," Tay commented as she picked a discarded newspaper up off the table and held in front of her face.

"Tay," Race said. "You can't go around stealing things anymore."

"Who says I'm stealing?" Tay asked hotly as she lowered the paper to scowl at Race. He just stared back at her calmly.

"Considering you'd rather eat what's left of my sandwich than pay for you own, let's just say it's a good guess."

"You want me to pay for your lunch?" Tay asked. She pulled a coin from her bag and slammed it down. "There, free lunch."

"That ain't what I meant and you know it."

"God, I hate it here with you bunch of goody two shoes," Tay told him as she crossed her arms. "Spot was…"

She cut herself off as she heard herself say Spot's name out loud. It was bad enough that he was in her thoughts nearly every minute of the day. Her face grew hot as she blushed in embarrassment and couldn't meet Race's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Race. I don't mean nothing by it," Tay told him in a low voice.

"I know it takes some getting used to," Race said kindly.

Tay knew better than to bite Race's head off like that. He was right, after all, and he would understand better than anyone else what it was like to make the change from living in Brooklyn to living in Manhattan. The problem was Tay didn't want to get used to it and she certainly didn't want to get used to the sort of life Sarah was trying to steer her toward.

The older girl had been kind enough about helping Tay get work in a laundry fairly close to the factory where Sarah collected her piece work, but it was becoming clear to Tay that Sarah had ulterior motives. The most irritating of which seemed to be to turn Tay into the kind of girl that Tay had always wanted nothing to do with.

"I was just trying to be nice to the kid," Tay explained as she picked the harmonica up off the table and stuck it in her bag.

"You gotta understand, Dave is real funny about stuff like that," Race told her.

Tay just made a face. She knew exactly what kind of reputation David Jacobs had and the reason why he'd earned the nickname 'Walking Mouth'. The fact was David was real funny about a lot of stuff.

Just as Tay went to make a smart remark about David she saw Sarah approaching the table where she and Race sat.

"Well this day just gets better and better," Tay muttered. Race heard and kicked her under the table. Tay winced and rubbed at her shin. "Damn, Race. You act like you like her or something."

"Shut up," Race hissed and turned his brightest smile toward Sarah. "Well, ain't this a nice surprise."

"Kiss her ass, why don't you?" Tay said in a low voice and earned herself another kick from Race.

"It's nice to see you, Racetrack," Sarah told him. She turned to Tay. "I must say I'm surprised to see you here, Tay. I thought I might see you at our sewing circle this afternoon."

Race tried to hide a grin and failed as Tay caught him and returned his kick with one of her own. They exchanged dirty looks while Sarah just waited patiently.

"Yeah, I had something else to do," Tay lied. Not only did she know nothing about sewing, but she wasn't going to spend another afternoon listening to Sarah and her friends drone on about women's rights.

"Perhaps you can join us at the next meeting," Sarah smiled. She turned back to Racetrack with the same smile. "Racetrack, I have something I'd like to discuss with Tay. Would you mind excusing us for a moment, please?"

"Are you outta your mind?" Race asked in an aside to Sarah. "She'll eat you alive."

"I can hear you, Race," Tay interrupted as she scowled across the table at him.

Sarah gestured for him to exit the booth. "I'm sure we'll be fine, thank you."

Tay fiddled with the strap of her bag and tried desperately to come up with some excuse that would give her a reason to get out of the conversation. Sarah took Race's vacant seat and studied Tay for a few moments.

"What?" Tay asked with a frown. She squirmed uncomfortably under Sarah's gaze and wished she would just spit out what she had to say.

"How have you been?" Sarah asked in concerned voice.

Tay felt instantly suspicious. "What do you mean? I'm here, ain't I?"

"That's an interesting answer."

"I just mean Spot ain't killed me yet, so I guess I'm just fantastic," Tay told her in a flat voice.

Sarah looked a bit surprised. "Do you expect him to?"

"Every day," Tay said with a sardonic smile. The one thing she had always known about Spot was that he wasn't to be underestimated. It seemed like it would only be a matter of time until he made good on his threats. The idea that he may have forgiven her or that he had somehow changed just seemed like a cruel trick in Tay's mind.

"Perhaps it would be safer for you to no longer sleep on the streets, then," Sarah said after a long moment of silence.

"Yeah? And what do you suggest?" Tay asked. She should have known Sarah would have some kind of motive that involved helping Tay achieve the respectability Sarah felt was necessary for a girl Tay's age.

Sarah leaned closer and placed a paper on the table. "The Sisters of Charity have a home for unwed mothers over on Chambers Street."

Waves of nausea hit Tay and she tried desperately to concentrate on the piece of paper in front of her. Her hands began to shake as she pulled her jacket tighter around her body. Her mind spun with ideas, things she wanted to say and couldn't find the words.

"It'll be safer for you there," Sarah said. Her voice sounded far away and Tay began to shake her head from side to side as she realized what Sarah was saying.

"How?" Tay managed to whisper. One of Sarah's comments from earlier came back to haunt her. "How did you know I was sleeping on the street?"

Sarah was silent and Tay lifted her eyes to see Sarah clearly struggling to come up with an answer. It all became clear.

"He's very charming, isn't he?" Tay asked with bitterness.

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't be. Spot could charm anything out of anyone," Tay explained. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. "I should have known."

"If it helps, I knew about the baby before he and I met," Sarah told her.

"Guess that makes you a mind reader or something," Tay commented dryly. It came out sounding more rude than she had planned. But the idea that it was happening again despite her desperate attempt to keep the pregnancy a secret was not something she could deal with at the moment.

"Not exactly," Sarah told her. Tay figured she imagined the split-second look in Sarah's eyes that seemed to reveal that she knew more about the situation than she was willing to admit to.

"Mind telling me what a girl like you is doing with a bum like Kelly?" Tay asked after a minute.

Sarah hesitated just for a moment. "A girl like me?"

"You know, with a brain and all," Tay explained. "Seems like maybe you deserve better."

"So do you," Sarah told her.

Tay got to her feet abruptly. "I gotta go."

Sarah pushed the piece of paper over to the edge of the table. "At least think about it?"

Tay stared at the note for a long moment before she suddenly reached out and crumpled it into her hand. "Fine, I'll think about it. But I ain't making any promises."

* * *

Author's Note: I am not terribly sure about this part. For some reason I really wanted a conversation between Sarah and Spot. However, I discovered that I cannot seem to capture Sarah the way I would like. So feel free to read the many wonderful stories that other authors have written which include a Sarah who is refreshing and unique and wonderful and cool and etc. And if you're thinking what I'm thinking about that last bit of conversation then yes - you are right :-) Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

Part Two or Second Verse, Same as the First: Thank you to Emador and Biankies for you reviews! I am so very grateful to see this story given a chance, especially when I know my writing is not the best and goodness knows I am a terrible person who changes her stories every other second ;-) Thank you to all readers and enjoy!


	10. Change Your Mind

Author's Note: Nerds (which is what I say when flummoxed - I love that word)...anyway, sorry this one scooted to the top again. If this chapter seems rushed it's because I wanted there to be a reason for the story to end up at the top and not just because I "fixed" Ch. 8. So, anyway...this is another chapter. Not too sure about this one but that's what cold weather and too much hot chocolate gets you ;-)

Thank you to the wonderful Emador, Biankies, Guest, and Nightwriter007 for your reviews! Thank you to anyone and everyone who reads this story - hope you enjoy!

* * *

Race looked up from the table as Tay rushed by and saw Sarah gesturing for him to follow Tay. He hesitated for a second before pulling his jacket off the back of his chair and heading out into the street. Tay was busily ripping up a bit of paper and didn't look up as he stepped closer.

"Leave me alone, Race. Go back to your friends," Tay told him. She turned the collar of her coat up against the bitter wind.

"C'mon, you can't stay out here," Race answered as he prodded her back toward the door. Tay avoided him easily and stubbornly stood with her back pressed against the wall.

"Fine, suit yourself." Race shoved his hands into his jacket and stood next to Tay. After a few minutes he began to deeply regret his decision to give up the warm restaurant interior to stand outside and freeze to death. The tip of his nose began to lose feeling and he looked over to see Tay shivering uncontrollably.

"This is stupid, you know," Race told her.

"Then go inside," Tay answered as she gathered her coat more tightly around her body. She watched the snow fall for a moment. "I just need air, okay? I can't think in there with that friend of yours."

"She means well," Race told her. "You ain't gotta be so stubborn."

Even as he said Race knew there was no point in advising Tay. Telling her not to be stubborn was about as useless as Sarah's attempts to try and mold Tay into a proper young lady.

"You like her, don't you?"

"Who?" Race asked innocently.

Tay rolled her eyes. "Sarah, that's who."

"Don't be stupid," Race told her. There was no way Tay could believe Race had anything but neutral feelings for Sarah.

Tay's eyes widened in delight. "You do! I knew it!"

"Shut up," Race said through clenched teeth. Tay just grinned and clapped her hands together while Race glared at her. "You're a child, you know that?"

Tay's smile slipped just a little. Her voice was cold when she finally answered him. "I'm not a child."

It was Race's turn to roll his eyes. "Yeah, 'cause standing out here freezing to death 'cause you're scared is real mature."

"I ain't scared," Tay told him. "Not of her."

"I didn't say you was scared of her," Race answered knowingly. "But Spot ain't here. And I thought you told him you never wanted to see him again anyway."

Tay pulled at her sleeve and didn't look at Race. "What if I want him here? What happens then?"

There was a long silence and Race felt a sour taste in his mouth as he saw the look on Tay's face. It was clear she was miserable without Spot. At first he had thought it was just her adjusting to life in Manhattan. It had been difficult enough for her the first time. Race figured once she had a job and was succeeding on her own that Tay would be able to let go. But the sadness in her voice nearly broke his heart and he didn't know what to tell her.

"Guess you was right about me," Tay smiled weakly. "Nothing's changed."

Race stamped his feet in an attempt to keep the blood circulating. "So what'd Sarah have to say? Maybe you can prove me wrong."

He knew more about the whole situation than he was given credit for. After all, he'd been there the first time Tay had tried to keeping her condition a secret from Spot, and he knew it wouldn't be the only time she'd end up in that position. He admitted, only to himself, that his latest attempts to help Tay were half-hearted at best. Race had watched the two of them go back and forth for years and he was fairly sure the results would always be the same.

"Better keep an eye on your girl, Racetrack," Tay warned. "Spot's already got his hooks in her, too."

There was a jaded tone in her voice that alerted Race to the idea of Tay thinking that Spot had ideas about adding Sarah Jacobs to the list of his many conquests. The thought caused Race considerable heartburn.

"How do you know he's been talking with Sarah?"

Tay just scoffed. "'Cause she's smart, but she ain't smart enough to come up with that idea on her own. It's got Spot written all over it."

"What idea?"

"Don't worry, it ain't none of your business, Racetrack," Tay told him flatly.

"Well you did come to me for help, right? So I figure I'm allowed to ask questions," Race pointed out.

"Ask whatever you want. Don't mean I have to answer," Tay told him.

"Hope you was more polite to Sarah than you are to me," Race joked.

Tay didn't appear to be listening. "He can talk to whoever he wants. I don't care."

"Sure, kid."

"I don't. He's wasting his time chasing that skirt, anyway. She's too smart for him," Tay explained. "And I don't need her help. You can tell her that for me."

"Judging by the look on her face I'd say she already knows," Race explained. "You know, not everyone is gonna try and hurt you."

Tay smiled bitterly. "Just the one I'm too stupid to let go of, right?"

"Look, you keep talking that way and it seems to me that maybe it ain't that you don't need help, it's that you don't want it."

"You ain't seen him, have you?" Tay asked hesitantly.

Race just shook his head in disbelief. "No."

"I have," Tay told him. A thoughtful smile crossed her face. "He's worried."

Race could almost hear the warning bells going off as he saw the satisfied look on Tay's face. He wasn't sure what game the two were playing at but he had always thought Tay knew better than to ever believe that Spot would allow her to have the upper hand.

"Just how do you figure that?" Race asked carefully.

"'Cause why else would he be spending so much time in Manhattan? He hates it here," Tay explained.

Race decided to just throw caution to the wind. "So you think he actually cares this time? 'Cause I don't wanna have to point out what happened last time when…"

Tay's face darkened and she glared at Race. "You think you're so smart, bringing that up? You don't even know what happened, Higgins."

Race was struck by the fact that she referred to him by his last name, the same way that Spot always had. It was obvious he had touched a nerve. "I just want you to be careful."

"Yeah? Well I want you to stay outta my life. I can take care of myself."

* * *

The flakes of snow continued to fall outside the window, coating everything in sight as Spot sat staring out into the nearly empty streets. It was going to be hell walking back to Brooklyn in that mess. He thought briefly of staying the night in Manhattan before turning back toward the interior of the room. Sarah sat across from him, looking composed but nervous. Race seemed to have been appointed some kind of watchdog as he sat a few tables over, shooting Spot dirty looks. Spot stared coolly at Race until the other boy finally became unnerved and looked away.

"Lemme guess, Tay took off," Spot said dryly.

Sarah brushed at some invisible speck of dirt on her sleeve. "Racetrack seems to believe that was your plan all along."

"How long has she been gone?" Spot asked, ignoring the insinuation. He should have known it wouldn't work sending Sarah. Tay was too smart for that.

"Almost a week," Sarah admitted. "At first Race figured she just needed time to think. But then she stopped showing up for work and I thought perhaps…"

"What?"

"Tay seemed to believe that you were going to kill her," Sarah explained. "I can't say the thought didn't cross my mind given your reputation."

"Then why'd you send for me?" Spot asked. Per usual, Tay clearly had no trouble painting him as the cold-hearted monster everyone else believed him to be. "You want me to tell you I didn't kill her?"

"If that's the truth," Sarah answered.

Spot reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He cupped his hand around the flame as he lit a match and held it to the end. For a moment he watched the smoke dissipate before turning his eyes back to Sarah.

"I didn't kill her, but you already knew that," Spot finally told her. "So what is it you want, Jacobs?"

"You're the person closest to her so I thought maybe you could help," Sarah explained. There was a snort of derision from Race as Sarah spoke and she frowned at him briefly before turning back to Spot.

_The person closest to Tay_. The words sounded strange coming from Sarah, but Spot imagined they would sound strange coming from anyone. He had spent so much time trying to hurt Tay, trying to drive her away and here he was being described as the person closest to her. Deep down he knew it was the truth.

"So she ain't so much gone as you two lost her," Spot commented sarcastically. "I shoulda known."

"Are you implying that she was somehow better off in Brooklyn?" Sarah asked in a haughty tone.

"I'm implying that I ain't never lost nothing that's belonged to me," Spot answered.

A dark flush spread over Sarah's cheeks as she glared at Spot. "A woman is not a belonging."

"And Tay ain't a woman," Spot supplied with a smirk. He glanced at Race. "She's got guts, this one. I can see why you like her."

Sarah's mouth fell open in shock and she turned around to catch Race sending Spot the dirtiest look possible.

"Guess I weren't meant to say nothing," Spot said with a shrug.

"Stick to the subject, Conlon," Race told him.

"Amateurs," Spot replied as he flicked ash off the cigarette and onto the floor. He gazed thoughtfully out the window for a moment. "I'll find her, but it's gonna cost you."

"Cost us what?" Sarah asked hesitantly.

"Like I told him before," Spot explained with a brief wave toward Race. "Stay the fuck outta my business and away from Tay. Deal?"

"That doesn't seem very fair," Sarah told him. Race stood and made his way over to the table, shaking his head at Sarah.

Race spit on his hand and held it out to Spot. "It's a deal, Conlon."

"Pleasure doing business with you," Spot replied.


	11. Half-Light

Author's Note: Ice storms, am I right? ;-) So if this chapter jumps around it's because I started writing, and the power went out, and then the power came back on and I started writing again. It's just a mish-mosh is what I'm saying. My apologies for that! It's kind of sudden so I may end up putting a chapter between the last one and this one but who knows. I think the snow days were getting to me :-) Thank you to Jaywing25, Emador, biankies, and Guest for their wonderful and kind reviews! Enjoy!

* * *

An icy breath of air crept in between the blanket and his skin, alerting him to the presence of someone else in the room. He remained still and kept his eyes open, just waiting. The blade of the knife was cold against his chest, held directly over the place his heart would have been if anyone believed he had one. Her braid hung down and the frayed ribbon brushed his cheek as he waited.

"Since when do you sleep alone?" Her voice was determined and cold. He curled his fingers over hers and brought the blade even closer.

"Are you offering to keep me company?" She pulled back just the slightest bit but Spot held her hand tightly. He took advantage of her hesitation and grabbed her by both wrists, flipping her easily onto her back onto the bed next to him.

"Not interested," Tay told him as she tried twisting away from him. Spot shifted his weight, intertwining his legs with hers so she was pinned to the bed.

"Oh, doll, we both know that ain't true," Spot answered. He felt her pulse quicken at his touch and breathed in her familiar scent, overwhelmed with relief that she was there with him. Tay continued to fight him until he placed his hand over her abdomen and she grew as still as death.

Spot ran his hand over the slight swelling of her body, the only outward sign of her condition. Her skin felt as though it was on fire, he could feel the heat through the thin material of the dress she wore. He reached across her and lit the candle stub that was sitting on the small table next to his bed.

"Bit heavy-handed, ain't it, doll?" Spot asked. He looked down to where the knife remained tightly grasped in Tay's hand. He began to work the knife away from her and held it up to the light. "I mean, using the knife that killed your brother? Or should I say the one you think killed your brother? That is this knife, right? The one you gave me to kill Rook with."

"Don't even try," Tay told him. "I'm not listening to you lie to me anymore."

"Maybe I've changed," Spot answered.

"And I'm the Queen of England," Tay said sarcastically as she threw her arm up over her eyes.

"He wasn't stabbed. I did lie about that part," Spot began hesitantly. "There was a fight and he fell. I started the fight, but I didn't kill him."

Tay didn't lower her arm but Spot saw her chest began to rise and fall quickly as she listened.

"I tried to pay for you, I offered everything I had. Rook tried saying the deal was done but Kieran wanted to hear me out. Said he needed the money. The more, the better for him. They started shoving each other and next thing I know we're out on the street and Kieran was just…just laying there. There were a lot of people and Rook just shoved me and told me to get lost. Then he did the same."

Tay slowly lowered her arm and he could see the tears on her face. "Why couldn't you have told me that before?"

"I don't know." It was the only answer he could think of and it was probably the only honest one he'd ever given.

"All this time…" Tay began thoughtfully but she didn't finish. She just stared up at the ceiling somberly before turning toward him.. "We could just leave, you know."

"I ain't leaving Brookly and neither are you," Spot said irritably. Why was it every time he showed her the slightest amount of gentleness or patience she had to take it in a whole new direction? A direction he absolutely did not want to even think about heading toward.

"You can't keep me here. I know how long you spent looking for me. Just wait 'til I leave for good."

Tay reached for the knife Spot still held but he evaded her easily. He grabbed her by the jaw and forced her to look at him. He ran the flat side of the blade down her cheek, her neck, and continued until it rested against her stomach.

"Don't." Her voice shook even as she tried to sound forceful.

"My house, my rules, doll."

"I don't live in your house anymore," Tay challenged.

"Yeah, I heard you've taken up with Queens."

She was still so stubborn and so utterly useless at hiding from him. Winter had always been her ally as it tended to add a few days, or weeks, to his search. He'd kept his search fairly low-key to prevent her from hearing about it and searched her usual haunts on his own. When she didn't turn up at any of the familiar places, Spot had turned to his network of birds for information.

"I ain't taken up with them," Tay said carefully. "I just needed to get away from you."

"And yet here you are. You shoulda stayed with Sarah, or Race," Spot advised. "They might have helped you keep it."

"I am keeping it," Tay told him in a clipped tone. "You try and take it from me and I'll…"

"You'll what?" Spot asked. "Kill me? If you was gonna do that, I'd be dead already. It's what they sent you here for, ain't it?"

It just went to show how she continued to jump straight into situations without thinking. In her desperation to get away from Spot, Tay had managed to get herself in over her head with Queens. There was no doubt in Spot's mind that he was going to have to face facts and help her out of it.

"Or maybe you came for another reason," Spot told her. With one flick of his hand the knife landed on the floor, blade first. "Maybe you found out Queens ain't exactly the best place to be knocked up and on the run. Maybe you got tired of sewing circles and advice. So tell me, doll, what are you doing here? Because if I remember right, we already played this game once and you ain't exactly good at it."

"You don't know anything," Tay finally told him.

"I told you before, Anna," Spot murmured as he pressed his mouth against her ear. "I know everything about you."

Tay pressed her hands against his chest and futilely tried to push him away. "I don't believe you. You just lie about everything. You're hateful."

"Then what are you doing here?" He had forced her to say it before, but he wanted to hear it again. He needed to hear her admit that she loved him. Maybe it would help ease the constant fear he had that she would, once again, try and end her life.

Tay propped herself up on her elbows and blew out the candle. "I don't know anymore."

"That ain't really an answer, doll."

"I got a question for you, then," Tay said quietly. "Why didn't you kill me? I left Brooklyn, I tried to kill you…"

"You didn't try very hard," Spot interrupted jokingly.

"I've seen what you do to people who threaten you," Tay continued. "So why didn't you?"

There was a long silence as Spot lay staring up into the dark. He was startled when Tay reached for one of his hands and intertwined her fingers with his.

"'Cause I love you. Now shut up and go to sleep," Spot told her before he rolled over and pulled Tay against him tightly.


	12. I See Fire

Author's Note: A VERY serious warning about this chapter - it's exceedingly dark, deals with the issue of miscarriage, and I don't want anyone who doesn't want to read that type of story to not have fair warning. You may be asking, why write something like this? It was cathartic, that's my only excuse. Fair warning and I'm sorry that the story took a nose-dive into the dark.

* * *

Spot had always warned Tay about wandering around on her own at night and in hindsight, she should have spent the night with him. But he'd waited too long to try and tempt her with those three little words. She thought she knew better than to stick around and have him tell her it was all a lie. It was just another thing to add to the long list of things she'd done wrong. If only she had stayed she might have never found out that Queens didn't ask for favors without repercussions if that favor fell through. Life with Spot had prepared her for the pain that came from bruises and broken bones. But the boys from Queens had far more than a few bruises in mind.

The sheets were twisted around her as Tay stared up at the ceiling and tried not to think of the pain. Every breath, every movement had been a nightmare from the moment the small life she had carried slowly left her body. The room spun before her eyes as she sat up and Tay gripped the side of the bed tightly to keep herself from vomiting. A stabbing pain shot straight through her body as she reached forward toward the washstand and got to her feet. The water in the basin was ice cold but she no longer cared. There was no soap and the rag stung her already raw skin as she tried desperately to scrub everything away.

Every muscle in Tay's body protested as she reached for the worn dress lying on the floor next to her. The material scratched against her skin as she pulled it over her head. When she finished dressing Tay stared blankly down at the knife that lay next to the washbasin of cloudy water. The blade was dull with spots of rust scattered across the surface. She picked it up with a shaking hand and turned it over and over thoughtfully. It had seemed so easy the first time when she'd taken his knife, intent on making him suffer in the same way he'd made her suffer. The cuts had been deep, but not deep enough.

"Anna." Spot's voice startled her, causing her to drop the knife into the water. He was supposed to be sleeping. She glanced at him and his eyes reminded her of the ocean after a storm. A cold hand squeezed around her heart when she made the mistake of wondering if it would have had Spot's eyes. She bit at her lip until it bled as she tried and failed to hold back the sobs that escaped her throat.

"I can't stay here anymore," Tay struggled to tell him through her tears.

"Where do you want to go?" If Spot was playing another game, Tay was too exhausted to figure it out. If she had been in her right mind she might have said he almost sounded sincere. It was almost as though he was actually giving her a choice.

"I don't care." She winced as she noticed the scratches along his neck where she'd fought him tooth and nail the night he'd found her and brought her to this place. Tay let her eyes drift over the room and she was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to rip the place apart. Six days of staring at the same four walls and knowing she'd failed all over again.

Spot raised himself up onto his elbows as he studied her. "I know it's –"

"Don't" Tay snapped. "Don't you dare act like that with me."

Since that night she hadn't let him even attempt to try and provide any comfort. Even the room was an unwanted gesture and she had only stayed there because Spot had stuck to her like glue to keep her from leaving.

"It ain't forever," Spot told her and she thought she heard the slightest irritation in his voice.

"Nothing is." Tay picked a small glass up off the dresser and considered the weight of it in her hand before she threw it against the opposite wall. Her muscles protested as she began throwing everything within reach at that same place on the wall.

"Feel better?" Spot asked with a placid look at the scattered and broken belongings on the ground. The bed creaked noisily as Spot threw his legs over the side and stood. Tay watched as he rummaged through the items on the floor.

"You ain't got anymore," Tay volunteered, realizing what he was looking for. "You smoked 'em all."

Spot let out a curse and began to rifle through his pockets but came up empty-handed.

"Just go buy some," Tay said dismissively.

Spot didn't look at her. "I ain't going anywhere."

"Brooklyn without its beloved leader," Tay said sarcastically. "How will they survive without you?"

It was the longest conversation they'd had since the night Tay miscarried. At first Spot had tried to talk to her but Tay had stared mutely at the wall next to the bed. It wasn't until the third night that he even tried touching her after she'd lashed out with such violence that first night. She still had no idea who had alerted him to the situation, it was all a blur. Tay had wished in vain that there was anyone else to lean on but she understood that even as she refused any comfort Spot tried to provide he was also the only person she wanted to be comforted by.

"All I'm gonna do is sleep," Tay explained.

"No you ain't," Spot replied quickly. "You ain't slept since that night."

Tay's body ached from exhaustion but every time she closed her eyes there was the memory of a chloroform-soaked rag being held over her face and the blood-stained sheets. Spot moved towards her but Tay held tight to the anger burning in her chest.

"You look awful miserable for someone who got what he wanted," Tay told him bitterly.

"Stop it, Tay," Spot warned.

"No," Tay told him. "I know what you're thinking, Conlon. Thanking your lucky stars that the boys from Queens were able to do the job for you. Hell, you probably sent them…"

"Enough," Spot said. He forced her to look him straight in the face and Tay felt her breath catch as she saw the hurt and anger in his eyes. The realization that he might be hurting as much as she was caused the last of her defenses to crumble down.

"This ain't your fault," Spot told her as he let her go. "And it ain't mine neither."

_Queens._ Tay didn't need to hear him say it to know who he blamed for the miscarriage. After all, two of their finest had delivered the beating that caused Tay to lose what she had tried so hard to keep safe and secret.

"What are you going to do?" There had been such an influx of grief, anger, and frustration that Tay hadn't fully comprehended what might happen in the aftermath. She had long understood what Spot was capable of but for the first time she didn't really have any concern for anyone who suffered his wrath.

Spot's eyes didn't waver as he looked at her and an unspoken understanding grew between them. He said he would take care of her, protect her and he would. But there weren't going to be any answers to her questions.

"You need to sleep."

Tay was too tired to argue any further and allowed Spot to help her settle back into bed. She watched as he gathered his few belongings together.

He turned back toward her. "Promise me you'll try to sleep."

"I promise."

Without another word he was gone.


	13. You Found Me

Author's Note: Still dark but maybe not so dreary. Eh, it's angsty - what can I say? I seem to be incapable of cute, fluffy moments so I'm sorry if that's what you came here looking for. Thank you to those who reviewed! I haven't caused you all to jump ship so that's a huge plus! ;-) Not that I'm trying to. Anyway, thank you so much for reading! And to answer Emador's question - yes, the chloroform was meant to be used during the miscarriage. I have no medical knowledge and had very little time to research so my apologies for that somewhat confusing detail. So many times I know what is going on in my head but then I forget - everyone is not privy to that so if this chapter is also confusing, I'm sorry! Thank you again for reading and enjoy!

* * *

The last place Spot wanted to be was sitting in a back room at Irving Hall listening to newsies argue over dividing territories up for the influx of new kids that appeared every spring and summer. Brooklyn could take care of itself, always had and always would. His wary alliance with Manhattan's leader was the only thing that would bring him this far away from home for such a waste of time. The night was dragging on and still nothing had been resolved. One by one most of the others had left until only a handful of Brooklyn and Manhattan boys remained. Spot and Jack sat at a table on their own, exchanging news and rumors while they played cards.

"New leader of Queens seems kinda green," Jack began carefully.

Spot knew Jack didn't care about Queens. As long as things were just peachy in Manhattan and his boys had enough money in their pockets Jack didn't concern himself with the never-ending tension that existed between Queens and Brooklyn. But Spot knew given the events of that winter and the disappearance of Queens former leader that Jack would bring the topic up sooner or later.

Spot's eyes flicked to the table in the corner where Tay was seated alone. Dressed in his old clothes and with her hair tucked up into a hat she was trying her best to blend into the crowd. It had been months since she had willingly spoken to anyone but Spot and he practically had to drag her to Irving Hall that night in the hope that she would open up even the slightest bit. It didn't appear to be working. Tay caught Spot watching her and he returned to the game and conversation with Jack.

"You got something you wanna ask, Kelly?" Spot asked as he looked over the cards in front of him. If Jack was going to sit there and pretend like they didn't both know exactly was going on, then Spot had no trouble letting him stew.

"Just been hearing some things," Jack mentioned as he dealt himself three cards and looked expectantly at Spot.

"Two," Spot told him and picked up the cards Jack dealt, sorting them into the hand he held.

"Pretty strange for Dodge to just up and run off like that, 'specially since spring is coming," Jack said as he saw Spot wasn't going to volunteer anything else. During spring and summer there was always an influx of kids from more stable homes who would soon be out of school and looking for a way to earn pocket money. It meant that most of the boroughs would have leaders trying their best to keep everyone in line and out of trouble. So news that the leader of Queens had supposedly taken off that winter had raised more than a few eyebrows.

"Wouldn't know," Spot answered as he tossed another bet into the center of the table. "Then I ain't like some leaders, always going on about places they'd rather be."

There was a break in the conversation as the pointed comment hit its mark and Jack fell silent. Spot was beginning to grow weary of the back and forth. If Jack wanted to know the truth about the situation, he was going to have to come right out and ask for it.

"Must have had his reasons for taking off like that," Jack said finally. He hesitated for a split second before continuing. "There's some saying that your girl was involved."

Spot set his jaw firmly. "That so?"

Jack put his hands up in mock surrender as he recognized the look on Spot's face. "Look, I ain't saying she was or she wasn't. There's just some that might be saying she was there and you know the others ain't ever been shy about their opinion of you."

"Spit it out, Kelly."

"It was just talk," Jack shrugged. "Could be he just caught the train down South or hopped a freighter. Wouldn't be the first to do it."

"If I was in the habit of giving advice, I'd tell you to leave it alone, Kelly," Spot told him in a serious tone before he laid his cards on the table. "Three of a kind."

Jack tossed his cards down in defeat and stretched lazily as Spot collected his winnings. The subject was dropped for the time being. Spot stuck the coins in his pocket and made his way to the table where Tay sat. She didn't look up from the newspaper spread out on the table as Spot slid into the chair next to her. He watched with amusement as Sarah made a beeline for Jack and understood just why Jack had brought up the subject of Tay and Queens. It was clear that Sarah wanted information and thought Jack would be the one to get it for her.

"Does he know?" Tay asked quietly. She reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette along with a box of matches. Her hands fumbled with the match, snapping the thin wood in half as she tried to strike a flame. Spot took the matches out of her hand and struck one cleanly, holding it to the tip of her cigarette as she bent her head down.

"No," Spot answered. It wasn't entirely a lie and it wasn't the entire truth either. But he thought maybe it would help ease some of the fear and sadness he saw in her eyes. It was just a reality that his name would be linked with any wrongdoing but what he was trying to avoid was anyone finding out just how closely Tay had followed in his footsteps.

* * *

_Spot had been through it all before. In the years since he'd taken over Brooklyn he had learned more than he had ever wanted to know about both the virtues and failings of each borough's leaders. Each had a weakness that Spot was perfectly willing to exploit if the opportunity arose. He had personally taken care of the two boys who delivered the beating on Tay but wasn't finished there. The orders had come from higher up and Spot expected nothing less than an all out war when he confronted the leader of Queens. What he hadn't expected was Tay to be right by his side._

_"__You gonna help or you just gonna stand there?" Spot asked irritably. _

_Tay just stared down at the icy water below. Spot noticed she had started shivering uncontrollably. There was a smudge along her cheek that he thought might have been a bruise but was from where she'd wiped at the blood dripping out of the cut above her eye. Tay dropped to her knees and dry heaved over the water. _

_With one last bit of effort Spot shoved Dodge's body away and watched the former leader of Queens disappear into the dark waves. He'd seen enough bodies go into that water and never return. There had been the innocent boys who misjudged the depth before diving in headfirst. Ones who had accepted a dare to swim to this point or that, not realizing they weren't good swimmers until it was far too late. Then there were the most difficult times when a body had to disappear, no questions asked. Another body wouldn't really matter._

_Spot had taken her by the hand and led her back toward home, forcing her to keep up as they headed through the dark streets. Neither said a word until they entered that small, familiar room where they'd spent so much time that summer. _

_"__He was going to kill you," Tay murmured. He saw the red stains on her hand and the lamplight revealed that her dress was speckled with drops of blood. The look in her eyes made Spot uncomfortable. There was no spark of light or warmth of any kind. There was nothing of the girl he knew so well._

_"__We ain't talking about this now," Spot told her. He could tell that it hadn't hit her yet what she had done, what he had done for her. But it was close and he readied himself for that moment even as he hoped it would never come._

* * *

"I ain't doing that shit again," Tay told Spot that night as she walked beside him back to Brooklyn. The Irving Hall idea had been a fiasco as Tay continued to refuse to talk to anyone but Spot. Still, he had the answers he wanted and so it was a partial success in his mind.

Spot snatched Tay by one arm and pulled her in close. "You'll do what I tell you."

It was one of the things that had remained unchanged. Tay had never learned to keep things to herself when Spot was in front of his boys. Reilly pointedly ignored the tete-a-tete and made himself scarce as soon as Spot signaled for him to go.

The moment they were alone Tay jerked her arm out of Spot's grip and headed for the room they shared. Spot caught the door before she could slam it shut and stepped inside, closing it behind him. Tay yanked off her hat and flung it to the floor as she stormed back and forth.

"Go away, Conlon," Tay snapped. Since the night of the miscarriage she had taken to calling Spot by his last name. It was something that irritated him to no end and she knew it.

"This is how you want it to be?" Spot asked, stepping closer.

Tay looked around the room at anything but him and refused to answer. Her stubborn silence was the last straw in what had been a hellish night. A hellish few months, for that matter. Spot grabbed her by her shoulders, shoving her backwards. Tay pulled and kicked at him until the point Spot drew his fist back and slammed it into the plaster wall. It was the closest he'd come to striking her since the night he'd caught her kissing that boy in the bar.

"I told you tonight wasn't gonna be easy," Spot said after a few moments.

Nothing had been easy since that night he'd finally admitted to his feelings for her. He blamed those feelings for everything that had come after. If he hadn't loved her, if he hadn't known she loved him in return, then it would have been so much easier to deal with Queens and the whole incident. He would have never allowed his feelings to get so out of control. It had not been his intention to kill Dodge that night and it had never even occurred to him that Tay's love for him and grief over the miscarriage would drive her to try and get to Dodge first. It was supposed to be just two leaders meeting to discuss the situation, but Tay turned that plan upside down in a heartbeat. By the end of the night Tay was hurt, Spot was enraged, and Dodge was dead. While finding out that it was only rumored that Tay was there eased Spot's mind, it was clear that Tay was still uneasy.

"They know I was there," Tay said fretfully.

"They don't know," Spot told her. He brushed his hand against her face, holding her in place so that he could look straight into her eyes. "I told you, I took care of it. I ain't gonna let you get hurt."

The irony didn't escape either one of them. Spot had caused Tay an incredible amount of pain but the idea of anyone else putting their hands on her, _touching_ her, caused something inside Spot to snap. It was something that Dodge had discovered far too late for his own good that bitter cold night in Queens.

Spot was still unsure what drove Tay to think she could negotiate with Dodge that night. Whatever it was that she had been thinking that night, Tay never admitted to it. Since the night of the miscarriage Spot had to admit that Tay had been much more prone to violence. A raw, feral kind of violence that she would display at the most unexpected moments.

Tay slipped away from his touch and sat on the edge of the bed. She dropped her head into her hands and just stared at the floor. Spot moved toward her hesitantly but Tay didn't protest as he sat down next to her. She leaned over and placed her head on his shoulder.

"Do you still love me?" Tay asked.

"Yes," Spot answered with no hesitation. He reached over and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her down next to him on the bed. Tay's body relaxed against his and for the first time since he could remember Spot fell asleep easily, his arm wrapped tightly around Tay.


	14. Already Broken

Author's Note: I thought about just adding this to the last chapter, but then changed my mind. Thank you for the wonderful and kind reviews! It means so much to me and I'm so very grateful! I do believe I can see the light at the end of the tunnel with this story :-) Thank you for sticking with me! Enjoy!

* * *

"He do that to you?" Race asked. He swallowed thickly and felt as though his tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth. Tay continued to serenely stare out at the water, smoking a cigarette as though Race wasn't even there. The awkward silence grew as Race watched another topic crash and burn. He'd already tried several attempts at small talk but Tay hadn't said a word. Race figured bringing attention to the bruises that dotted her skin would get her to at least say something.

It had been difficult enough to find Tay and he was reminded of how he'd warned Sarah away by explaining that Brooklyn was easy place to disappear if that's what you wanted to do. It was because of Sarah that he was standing there trying to talk to someone who would clearly rather be anywhere else in the world. The fact that Tay was still there, seated on top of an old nail keg gave him the slightest hope that he could get her to talk. He knew that if Tay really had nothing to say, she'd be gone already.

"Guess that's a yes," Race said in the uncomfortable silence. Tay's appearance had changed in more ways than one while Race had stayed away that winter. Tay had apparently taken to wearing boy's clothes and had cut her hair short enough that the blunt ends didn't quite cover the bruises on her neck. He assumed the bruises came from Spot and thought that the previous question might prompt Tay to deny the accusation the way she had in the past.

It was unusual for Race to feel that level of discomfort with Tay and he thought with chagrin how Sarah had managed to talk him into crossing the bridge to check on Tay. He'd heard all about how Spot was suspected of killing the former leader of Queens, though no one could officially prove it. There were whispers that he'd done it because Queens had threatened Tay but no one seemed inclined to talk about it much except Sarah. She was determined to find out the truth and wheedled her way into getting Race to do the leg work for her.

"Look, I'm only here 'cause I heard about the baby from Sarah," Race explained irritably. He was sick of the silent treatment from Tay.

Even at the lowest points of their friendship Tay had never looked at him with as much contempt and hatred as she did in the moment just before she punched Race right in the face, knocking him to the ground. A flurry of punches followed and although Tay was slight and small, her punches were quick and Race spent the majority of his time trying to block her shots as he refused to strike her back intentionally.

It wasn't until a couple Brooklyn newsies pulled them apart that Race saw Tay's nose bleeding and realized he must have caught her with an elbow. His own nose was dripping blood and he felt a series of bruises along his abdomen and ribs that he knew would be swollen by the end of the night. Race brushed off the kid who helped him up and saw Tay continuing to fight to get at him as the newsie that held her kept her arms pinned behind her back. A few others had gathered, having smelled blood in the water and were looking expectantly from Race to Tay and back again.

"Beat it." Every newsie vanished as Spot walked up to where Tay and Race stood. The kid holding Tay seemed to hesitate but one look from Spot and the boy took off in the opposite direction. The moment she was free Tay lunged at Race but Spot caught her quickly and held her still.

"Enough," Spot told Tay. He held her tightly as he eyed Race. "You do that to him?"

Tay nodded once in acknowledgement. Spot pulled Tay a few feet away and bent his head down, speaking to her in a low voice. Race wasn't able to hear what was said, or even tell if Tay answered. He figured she must have since Spot let her go and Tay walked off without even bothering to look back at Race.

"Seein' how you got soaked by a girl, I'm gonna be nice and give you a chance to explain what the fuck you are doing here when we had a deal before I throw you out," Spot explained after Tay had gone.

"You teach her to sucker punch someone like that?" Race asked crossly.

"I taught her a lot of things," Spot answered as he lazily lit a cigarette. "One of 'em was to answer my fucking questions when I ask them. Guess she knows better than you seem to."

"This wasn't my idea. Sarah couldn't get anything out of Jack so she's been pestering me for weeks now to check on Tay," Race attempted to explain, seeing that Spot was not in a mood for their usual banter.

"Never knew you to hide behind a skirt," Spot replied. "'Course it might matter who's wearing the skirt. Kelly know you're in love with his girl?"

"We're friends," Race told him, feeling the conversation was getting out of hand.

"Coming here, breaking our deal, and damaging my goods is a hell of a risk for a friend," Spot said with a smirk.

"That was an accident," Race pointed out. "You know I'd never hit Tay on purpose."

Race quickly bit off the part where he pointed out that hitting Tay on purpose was Spot's department. But given that Spot hadn't yet run out of patience Race decided to just try and keep his smart mouth from getting him into further trouble.

"All I said was that I heard about what happened from Sarah," Race continued. "Next thing I know she's trying to beat the hell outta me."

"It's a sore subject," Spot told him. "You're lucky she didn't soak you worse than that."

For a moment Race considered what might have been if he had never agreed to Spot's deal, or if he had broken it sooner. Over time his friendship with Tay had grown colder but he felt as if she had crossed some sort of divide to where he could no longer reach her at all. Maybe it was the fact that the more time Race spent in Manhattan, the more out of place he felt whenever he tried to return to Brooklyn. Physical violence had never been Tay's customary way of dealing with things so Race found it hard to believe it could have been worse but clearly Tay was changed.

"What happened?" Race asked, doubtful that Spot would be forthcoming.

Spot searched the opposite wharf until he caught sight of Tay. He watched her for a moment before turning back to Race. If Race didn't know better, he might have said Spot looked almost pained but the brief look vanished as quickly as it came.

"It was back in January," Spot began. "One of my boys comes to me and tells me he chased off two of Queens boys up around the navy yard. Found her laying there all beat to hell and bleeding like…it don't matter. Fought like hell when she came to, but it was too late. Said there was nothing they could do for her."

"I mean I heard some things and I tried asking her, but…"

"Don't take it personal. She don't talk to no one anymore. 'Cept me," Spot explained. He expression turned from thoughtful back to cold and calculating. "She ain't your business no more, Higgins."

"Might help if I brought Sarah 'round," Race offered.

"No," Spot answered sharply. "She don't want some goody two shoes 'round here unless you want your pretty girlfriend going home with a black eye. So I suggest you and her keep the deal I offered and stay the fuck away from Tay."

"All right," Race admitted defeat. After all, he didn't want to be denied access to Brooklyn altogether, especially since there were so many easy pickings on that side of the bridge. A poker game where he could add a few coins to his otherwise empty pockets would be just the thing to improve his mood.

* * *

The atmosphere in the crowded room was becoming cooler, signaling to Race that he had fleeced enough poor souls for the evening and it was time to go. He excused himself from the game and headed out into the cool night air, happy to hear the familiar jingle of coins in his pocket. He stopped for a moment and relit the stub of his cigar, puffing away in silence.

"The bruises ain't from him."

Race looked around for a moment and spotted Tay seated in the shadows nearby. He went to step closer but remained where he was when he saw Tay grow tense.

"That so?" Race asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, that's so," Tay told him coolly.

"Talking to me now, are you?" Race faced out over the water, unsure of how long the conversation would last and wary of causing Tay to bolt or fight him again.

"It's the last time," Tay explained.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"I know about your deal."

"Ain't stopped you or me before." Race thought back on the numerous times Spot had tried to put restrictions on Race's friendship with Tay, only to have Tay undermine him.

"I asked him to make sure you stick to it. I don't want to see you no more, Race," Tay told him quietly.

It was completely unexpected and Race realized that his initial feeling had been right. Tay was too far gone for him to reach any longer. She was Brooklyn, he was Manhattan. Too many things had happened, too much time had gone by. He cursed himself for not having reached out to her sooner but he hadn't known what to say about the baby, what was rumored to have happened in Queens, any of it.

"You said that before," Race joked as a last ditch effort.

Tay rose and stood next to Race, looking thoughtfully out into the night sky. A cigarette dangled from her right hand and she raised it to her lips, taking a drag before she turned and looked at him.

"He loves me," Tay told him after a long moment. Race opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. Tay faced away from him and for a moment she seemed to forget Race was there at all. "He told me so. He loves me."

Without any further explanation or giving him an opportunity to say anything else, Tay walked away toward the broken down building Race had just left. For a moment he saw her silhouetted in the doorway and then she was gone.


	15. Lost Boy

Author's Note: Wow, it is so much later than I thought so I'll make this brief. Another chapter that I will no doubt read in the morning and either delete or edit to pieces ;-) Thank you for reading and thank you so much for the kind reviews! You guys keep me going :-) Enjoy!

* * *

The rain drummed against the tin shelter above their heads, flowing down into the refuse of the alley and turning the streets into rivers of mud. Spot glared up at the grey sky as though he could intimidate the weather the same way he seemed to intimidate everyone else. He shifted his body, pulling his feet back away from the damp ground and pushing his back up against the brick wall behind him. His movement caused Tay to look up at him for a moment before she went back to picking at the broken piece of pie she held in a brown paper wrapper. They sat shoulder to shoulder and while Spot usually craved Tay's touch, there was also a brief feeling of annoyance that made him want to pull back away from her.

"You're getting that shit all over me," Spot told Tay, purposefully jostling her arm and causing her to drop the piece onto the ground. All he wanted was to goad her into a reaction but she was too used to his volatile moods to protest beyond a brief look of hurt and confusion which satisfied Spot.

Tay watched moodily as the steady rain caused the pie to disintegrate until it was washed away with the rest of the scraps and litter in the alley. Spot knew her hunger was equal to his own and for a moment he felt petty and small. He figured she'd finally come out with it and ask him what was wrong, but Tay had learned long ago that there was no point in asking questions when Spot was in a foul mood. He wouldn't tell her the real reason for it and any answer he gave would only serve to hurt her more anyway.

The rain seemed to grow heavier and Tay pulled her knees to her chest and edged closer to Spot in an attempt to keep the water from dripping down onto her clothes. It was one of those cold spring rains that seemed to only exacerbate an already miserable day. Spot considered the notion that he should have been dealing with the latest news from Harlem or listening to one of his boys explain just how the hell two of his finest managed to get sent to the Refuge for burglary. Or maybe sitting up at McNeir's with a beer in front of him and a woman by his side who couldn't afford to give him the cold shoulder. But no matter what alternative he considered all he could really focus on was how he should have been anywhere but sitting there with Tay, contemplating how he should have made good on his threat to get rid of her long ago.

It was a mistake, telling her that he loved her. He didn't. He hated her. He hated how she made him feel. _She made him feel_. Frankly, it pissed him off. He was the goddamn king of Brooklyn and she was nothing. A throwaway, like every other girl he'd ever deigned to spend time with. That was how it was supposed to be. There wasn't anyone else in the whole fucking city that could make him do or say anything, except her. Every time he turned around Tay had managed to get further under his skin. It wasn't just that she knew things about him that he would have rather died with than reveal to anyone else. It was that she made him lose control and that was unacceptable. It had driven him to extremes. He felt like the ground beneath his feet was slowly crumbling.

"I want my clothes back," Tay said quietly, continuing an argument that had started that morning. He'd left her the rag bag castoffs given to him by the matron of the lodge house. He knew dressing as a boy had become some sort of armor for Tay, allowing her to travel undetected and protect her from unwanted attention. But Spot's patience had grown thin and he ended up taking his spare clothes back, leaving her with what he deemed was more appropriate attire for a girl her age. Tay had been furious and they'd spent most of the morning fighting with one another, until the rain started and drove them both to find shelter.

"First of all, they was my clothes and second, you're sixteen. You're too old to be playin' pretend," Spot answered.

"You're the same age as I am," Tay told him.

"And?" Spot asked.

"Just sayin' that I ain't the only one playing at something I ain't," Tay answered. Her face was turned away from him, leaving him unable to read her expression.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Tay lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug and peered up at the rain as though concentrating on it was the most important thing in the world at that moment. Spot fumed as he waited for her to answer. It was typical of her to make some kind of smart-ass remark and then not back it up. Conversations between the two of them had been stilted for quite awhile and it was just another thing he hated about this new way of life. When he'd first met her, Tay had never seemed to know how to stifle her opinion or curb her tongue. But they both were stuck in a new muted world where hours would go by before Tay would say anything to him and any attempt he made to get her to open up was instantly rebuffed.

At night Tay slept with her back to him, like brother and sister. Spot would just lay there most nights, staring up into the dark and listening to Tay's even breathing as she slept, or pretended to. They still hadn't talked about any of it. The miscarriage, Dodge, not one word about any of it even though Spot still felt on edge, just waiting for the inevitable.

"Race is thinking of working as a runner now," Spot mentioned. "Don't know if he told you the other night before you tried to beat his face in."

Tay just gave the same half-hearted shrug and Spot swallowed the urge to shove her sideways off the pile of crates they were sitting on. As though sensing his intention, Tay edged away from him, leaving Spot to feel a curious ache in the vacant space where her body had leaned against his only the moment before. Spot tried hard to fight off the feeling of loss and couldn't quite grasp it. He clenched his fists in frustration at his inability to control his own feelings. That was what she had done to him. At first he'd tried to control her. Tried in the most cruel, vicious ways he could think of. Because if he could control her, he could control how he felt. That was what he told himself. But it was all a pack of lies.

There had never been such a divide between them before and Spot reached out unknowingly, pulling Tay back to his side. Their eyes met for a moment before Tay looked away. Spot thought about how she used to be able to look straight into someone's eyes while they were speaking and now her eyes flit around like scared birds, never settling on any one thing. He studied the jagged scar above her eye, where Dodge had struck her. It had probably needed stitches but Spot couldn't afford to take her anywhere they might ask questions. It served as another reminder of the lengths he was willing to go for Tay.

"You'll watch out for him, right?" Tay asked, lifting Spot's hand onto her lap and running her fingers over the lines of his palm. The tips of her fingers were cold but the gesture was somehow comforting.

"Race don't need a babysitter," Spot reminded her. "If you're so worried about him, then why the hell did you tell him to beat it?"

"I don't want to hurt him, too," Tay admitted after a moment.

"Bit too late for that," Spot joked but Tay didn't even smile. Her eyes were downcast and she kept repeatedly tracing the same pattern on his palm. "I'm sorry for what he said about the…"

"Don't," Tay stopped him. "You said we didn't have to talk about it no more."

"We ain't ever talked about it," Spot pointed out.

"No reason to start now," Tay answered. She dropped his hand and got to her feet. She paused for a moment and Spot took advantage of her hesitation by pulling her back down onto the seat next to him. Tay glared over her shoulder and told him, "I got nothing to say."

"Told you before, doll, don't lie to me," Spot reminded her. A conversation wouldn't change anything, he knew that. But he needed to know what was going on with her and if she got upset, so be it. One of the only reasons he'd let Race stick around the other night was so hopefully someone could get Tay back to her old self. Spot was more than a little surprised when Tay actually became physically violent with what used to be her best friend.

"I ain't lying. If anyone has anything to say, it oughta be you 'cause this is all your fault."

"How do you figure?" Spot was actually interested in hearing what Tay had to say, for once. He had figured she blamed herself, so hearing that she blamed him was something new.

"It was your big idea to get rid of it the first time. Tellin' me to either get rid of it or you was gonna kill it when it was born. You shoulda just let me keep it, but 'cause you was too scared you dragged me off to that horrid woman and got it taken care of," Tay told him. "And now…"

"What the fuck do you mean I was too scared?"

Tay's eyes narrowed a bit as she looked at him and he tried to appear patient as he waited for her to answer.

"Why do you even want to talk about this now?"

"Answer the question." There was a slight edge to his voice that Tay knew better than to argue with.

"It's the same thing you always been scared of. You think you gotta keep everyone under your thumb or you're gonna lose all this," Tay said with a hint of sarcasm as she gestured to the filthy alley that surrounded them. "So I show up with a baby and all of a sudden you think I'm gonna trap you and then you ain't gonna be the king of Brooklyn no more. You'll just be another bummer with a girl you hate and a bastard kid."

"You been wastin' your time if you been thinking that's why I did it," Spot told her. "I did it 'cause it's what had to be done. Period. Just like every fucking time you get in over your head…"

"Christ, give that shit a rest."

"Tell me it ain't true. Tell me you ain't walked around here all this time with your head up in the fucking clouds, knowing that whatever mess you get yourself into, I'll be there to pick up the pieces."

"Or kill the pieces," Tay muttered as she rolled her eyes.

"What was you planning on doing that night with Dodge?" Spot asked and was satisfied by the wounded look on Tay's face. "How about the night you supplied Rook with enough drinks to get the whole pub drunk?"

"Shut up, Liam."

"I ain't the only one with blood on my hands, Anna. So maybe when you're passing out blame for what happened, you can hold some back for yourself."

_Fuck. _Spot regretted his words the moment they left his mouth and Tay's eyes brimmed with unshed tears. Again his temper had won out over his feelings for Tay. A sliver of his heart that felt gratified about wounding her, and although the piece had grown smaller over time, he'd never been able to let it go completely. It didn't lessen his guilt any to try and push it off onto her and it had never made things any easier between them. He couldn't explain his constant need to try and push her away because he knew that whenever they were apart he couldn't stand not having her with him. He had told himself that he hated her, he had told _her_ that he hated her, and it was all a lie.

Spot had believed the memory of finding Tay half-conscious in a pool of her own blood would have been enough to make it too difficult for him to ever want to hurt her again. The problem was he wasn't prepared for the flood of emotions that had struck him that night and that he had been wrestling with ever since. That he cared for Tay was nothing new, he would have never given her a second glance if that wasn't true. But something had changed somewhere and he'd been force to recognize the fact that Tay was the only person he would have willingly given Brooklyn up for. It had been a painful realization and he'd spent much of the time trying to figure out how the hell he had managed to let someone that close.

"I know it's my fault," Tay murmured, directing her comment to the ground at her feet rather than to Spot. "You was right, I shoulda stayed with Race. But I couldn't take it no more. It was bad enough working in that factory, but then she's wanting me to go to school and stay in a place where they named the goddamn rooms after flowers."

Spot smiled to himself as he listened to Tay describe what life had been like with Sarah Jacobs in charge. It was another hidden agenda come to light. It hadn't taken long after they first met for Spot to understand that Tay struggled with staying anywhere that wasn't outside, or at least offered a quick exit. One of the only reasons he'd continued to reside in that cramped room at the waterfront was because it was the only place he and Tay seemed to find any semblance of rest. When he'd discovered Tay was seeking help from Sarah, he'd made sure to suggest someplace he knew would drive Tay right back across the bridge. What he hadn't expected was that her journey would bring her to Queens and he'd end up carrying her into a narrow bedroom where they would both pay dearly for his mistake. The sight of blood stained sheets and the smell of chloroform would haunt him forever.

"Dodge _was_ going to kill you," Tay said as though she was trying to convince herself.

"Would have taken a better man than that bum," Spot told her lightheartedly. Tay frowned slightly at his tone and she reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers. He recalled how she'd always sworn by some old superstition her mother had about what a person's hands could tell you.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Tay sighed.

Spot thought briefly of protesting but he knew the outcome as well as, if not more so, than Tay did. Since the day he'd taken Brooklyn for his own he was well aware of the inevitable. There would always be someone out there who wanted what he had and was willing to go any length to get it. Even the success of the strike did not guarantee his place in the Brooklyn hierarchy. In fact, it had caused him greater concern as he'd received more than one invitation to join a few gangs who weren't used to taking no for an answer.

"Rain let up," Spot said with a nod toward the clearing sky. "Ready to go?"

"Sure," Tay answered. Knowing the rules, she began to let go of Spot's hand but he grasped her fingers tightly. There was a moment of surprise as Spot had never allowed her to express much in the way of public affection. Tay let her hand relax in his as they approached the mouth of the alley.

"I ain't going anywhere," Spot assured, looking straight into Tay's eyes and she actually managed to keep her eyes level with his, for once. There was still fear and sadness but he saw a small glimmer of the girl Tay used to be, before he came so close to destroying her. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing and that would have to be good enough.


	16. King of Anything

Author's Note: Added a bit to the end and still working on the chapter as a whole. I want to send an enormous thank you and shout-out to HogwartsNewsie92, Emador, Kelly, js158900, Guest, Jaywing25 and biankies for reviewing - it means so much and I am so very grateful that people are willing to give this story a go :)

Working on the epilogue...hopefully it'll come together shortly :)

Enjoy and thank you for reading!

* * *

_The blood poured out onto the ground, soaking into the sand. It leaked out from between her fingers as she held her hands over his chest. There was no stopping it. She felt his heart stop under her hands.__She had to find the gun. It had to be there somewhere. Everything could be undone. The frigid water swirled up around her, soaking into her dress and causing her bones to ache as she knelt there in the mud. Her hands frantically searched the refuse and rocks along the bottom and came up with nothing. She plunged them back into the icy water in desperation. Finally, her fingers made contact with something solid, unyielding. Just as she began to pull it out from under the surface, something pulled it back. She tugged harder, revealing a gun that was held tightly by a wasted, colorless hand belonging to the body of the former leader of Queens. She scrambled back out of the water and screamed and screamed…_

Tay's eyes flew open with the scream still echoing in her ears. Had she screamed out loud? She listened to see if she'd woken anyone but the sound of her heart beating in her chest made it impossible to hear anything else. Her skin felt cold, clammy and the sheets that twisted around her legs were damp from sweat. She shoved the blankets away and got to her feet, ignoring the feeling of the grit on the floor as she crossed to the weather-beaten trunk. With feverish hands she threw the lid back and fumbled through the contents until she came up with half-empty bottle. Tay tilted the bottle back and drank until she couldn't stand the taste anymore. Her stomach roiled but she managed to keep the alcohol down. The room was otherwise empty. He'd left her alone, again. _Alone with the rats and the fleas_, Tay thought miserably as she shoved her feet into a pair of boots, not even bothering to put on stockings or tie the laces.

Tay nearly jumped out of her skin as someone grabbed her by the arm just as she crept out the door. Spot had taken to assigning one of his boys to shadow Tay and she was miffed to discover that apparently meant night watch as well. An oil lamp sat flickering on a rickety looking chair outside the door, illuminating Finn's menacing form as he held Tay tightly and returned her glare with one of his own. He'd clearly drawn the short straw for the night and looked none too pleased about it, judging by the disgusted look on his face.

"Where you think you're going?"

"Get lost," Tay answered as she tried to pry Finn's fingers off her upper arm but he didn't budge.

"Conlon said you wasn't to leave and so you can take yourself right back in that room, or I can carry you in there," Finn explained with a suggestive grin.

Tay tried not to vomit at the suggestion as Finn looked a bit too eager to carry out his idea. Tay swallowed her anger for the moment and tried another angle. Finn had always been known more for his brawn than for his brains and Tay thought it might be possible to use that to her advantage.

"Well, it just so happens that I might have something to bargain with."

Finn's features relaxed but he kept his iron grip on Tay's arm, he was at least smart enough to know that the minute he let go Tay would be gone.

"Ain't interested, _whore_," Finn smiled cruelly. He pulled Tay in close enough that she could smell the rotten odor of chewing tobacco on his breath. "Everyone knows you ain't nothin' but Conlon's leftovers, anyway."

"Like I'd ever sink low enough to spend time with you," Tay scorned. "I was talking 'bout whisky, you jackass."

Bright pinpoints of light exploded in front of Tay's eyes as her head hit the rough dirt floor and she raised her left hand up to her face. The place where Finn had struck her already felt tender and she knew it would be a bruise by morning. Finn's eyes widened slightly as he realized his mistake. He held his hand out for a moment before pulling it back and wiping it across the front of his already grubby shirt.

"I'm…I mean…" Finn stammered nervously. "You ain't gotta tell…"

"Tell Spot that you hit me?" Tay finished with artificial sweetness. "I wouldn't want to do that now, would I? I mean, you and I both know how Spot feels about this sort of thing."

"He ain't gotta know," Finn suggested, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down nervously.

Tay had to admit that it was somewhat exhilarating to have the upper hand, for once. It was almost worth the pain of goading Finn into hitting her, but she also knew what the outcome would be if Spot found out. It wasn't something she wanted on her conscience.

"I tell you what, Finn," Tay started. She touched her cheek gently, making sure that Finn was watching. "Let's say you take a walk, go find your girl or something. And when you come back, door's closed, all's well. For all you know, I never left that room all night. As for this little bruise, maybe I don't remember where it came from, right?"

"Right," Finn answered in a shaky voice.

"Good." Tay didn't even bother to look back to see how Finn would react to her taking off right under his nose.

She crept past a few amorous couples and across the narrow planks connecting the wharves before heading down along the shore. The cool night breeze caused her to shiver uncontrollably and Tay clenched her fists at her sides in an effort to collect herself. It had just been a dream. She couldn't shake the image of that emaciated hand from her mind. Each night she'd dread going to sleep because of the nightmares. They varied slightly from one night to the next. The one recurring circumstance was her inability to save Spot from ending up dead. It didn't matter how the dream began, it always ended the same way.

Tay tried to shift her thoughts back to the events earlier that day, when Spot had allowed her to continue holding his hand even after they had left the seclusion of the alley. Of course it hadn't lasted long. Once Spot had been approached by one of his boys, all bets were off. A foolish person might have considered his holding her hand a sign of affection but Tay had long ago come to understand that nothing Spot did could be considered affectionate. Affection required warmth, caring, and Spot was incapable of those things. When they were alone there had been times he had come close but those few moments only left Tay puzzled and hurt. It was always a game and Tay knew it was a game she was meant to lose.

If only she had not let her anger get the better of her, then she could have talked to Race about it. Not that she was ever really honest with Race about anything. Well, anything that involved Spot. But Race was a friend, at least he had been until she had allowed her bitterness and guilt destroy that relationship, too. She'd always thought that if she had any brains in her head that she would have been able to recognize that Race was the much better choice. He was kind, and honest, and could make her laugh in a way that Spot never could. Of course to make someone else laugh, you had to know how to laugh yourself. Had she ever seen Spot laugh? Smile, yes, she'd seen Spot smile. Handsome, charming, empty smiles that were meant to reel women in like a never-ending game of cat and mouse. Tay had never witnessed anything closer to laughter than the infamous smirk that made her blood boil.

The full moon shone brightly over the surface of the water but Tay was still careful with her steps as much of the pier had been washed away in storms. A few rotted planks remained slung between the pilings and Tay stepped carefully from one to the next until she reached the long abandoned shed perched precariously at the end of the pier. It had once been part of a thriving ferry business but the opening of the bridge caused most places to go under. It had also been the first place Spot had lived and for Tay it had always been a place where she found comfort.

It wasn't much to look at. There wasn't even a door, just an opening covered by a old piece of metal. Tay pushed the corrugated sheet of metal aside and waved her hand in front of her to get rid of spider webs. She ran her hand along the wall until she found the candle stub and box of matches that she'd always kept on the shelf near the door. As her eyes adjusted to the light Tay pulled the bottle of whiskey she'd offered to Finn out of her pocket and took a seat on the old quilt that had seen better days.

That night in Queens was burned into her memory and eerily resembled the night she watched Spot take over Brooklyn. The alleyway, the freezing cold air, the smell and sight of blood all permanently fixed in her mind so that she could never forget, nor did she want to. What she did want to forget was the memory of Dodge's hot breath on her neck, the way his arm pulled her tight against his body, the way he smiled as he threatened to take away everything Tay loved.

"What are you doing?"

Tay froze with the bottle halfway to her lips as Spot stepped through the open door. Everything she had planned on saying vanished when she heard the malice in his voice.

"Drinking. Alone. So go away," Tay answered. She ignored his look of contempt and took another swig from the bottle.

"When is the last time you slept? Or ate?" Spot asked.

"That's sweet, pretending you give a damn," Tay replied sarcastically.

"Just once you could try not being a brat about shit."

"I'm serious. Go away, Liam," Tay told him, knowing how irritated he got when she would use his given name.

"You ain't usually one for the hard stuff, doll," Spot commented wryly as he took the bottle from her hands and examined the label before taking a sip. "If you wanted a drink, you coulda just stayed home and saved yourself the trouble you're in."

"When ain't I in trouble with you?" Tay asked.

"Never," Spot answered with a wry smile.

"How'd you even know I was here? Did Finn tell you?"

"You always come here lately, especially after you had a nightmare," Spot answered.

"I didn't have any goddamn nightmare," Tay protested. She hated that she sounded so childish in that moment.

"You've had enough," Spot said in a low voice as he watched Tay fumble with the bottle and took it from her trembling hands. She didn't feel like she'd had enough. There wasn't enough alcohol in the place to quell the flood of emotions she was dealing with. She felt the need to drink and continue drinking until she couldn't feel anymore. She had no idea how Spot had managed to appear so calm and together over the past few months. Spot's thoughts seemed to run in one clear line, while her thoughts were a jumbled mess.

Tay picked at one of the holes in the quilt and avoided looking at Spot. She used to find their silences comforting; it was one of the first things she appreciated about Spot. He wasn't like Jack, always talking just to fill a room or to hear the sound of his own voice. In some twisted way she preferred Spot when he was silent because he so easily used words to manipulate and threaten that she'd grown wary of any conversation with him. But then Tay helped commit murder and lost her baby and the chaos inside her mind made any kind of peace or stillness disagreeable. Tay closed her eyes and shuddered as the image of Spot's body lying in the surf rose up.

"So what are you really doing here?" Spot settled himself against the opposite wall and lit a cigarette.

"I can't talk about it," Tay murmured as she raised her head and met his eyes. It was that same pitiful look she was so very tired of. Anger, sudden and swift, took over her entire body and she couldn't hold back the flood of words that came tumbling out. "Stop looking at me like that. I can't take it anymore. You act like you are so fucking worried about me and it's such bullshit. You ain't never been worried about me. You _liked_ hurting me, you wanted to break me. Well, guess what? You win, Liam. Good for you."

It was a testament to the euphoric effects of the alcohol that Tay didn't even flinch as Spot's eyes flashed and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smirk. She recognized that look. It was the look that always preceded a punch, a slap, a shove. But at that moment she was simply too drunk to care about the consequences.

"You gotta talk about it sometime and I got all night, so you ain't getting out of it no matter what you try," Spot explained.

"Fine, then we'll just sit here staring at one another 'cause I ain't got shit to say to you," Tay told him. "Now give me the damn whisky."

"No."

Tay's reflexes were dulled and though she tried to reach for the bottle, Spot was quicker and managed to toss it out the door before she could even get close.

"I said no."

"Oh, you said no," Tay mocked. "The king of Brooklyn said no. 'Scuse me, your highness. Didn't realize I had to ask your fucking permission to drink. Guess I forgot the rules."

The alcohol freed her tongue, making it almost impossible to keep back the bitterness and spite that she'd been consumed by since the night she miscarried. Part of the reason she'd stopped speaking was because she had been too afraid that once she let her pain out, there would be no way to ever stop it.

Spot muttered a string of curse words that would have made Tay blush if she hadn't been so out of it. Even in the dim light she could see the exhaustion that was evident on Spot's every feature. He was not himself and even though Tay hated to admit it, she was worried about him.

"It's over, ain't that what you're always telling me? So there's nothing to say now," Tay said with a deep sigh. "We killed someone, Liam. It don't matter what happened before that and it don't matter what happens now."

It was the first time she'd been able to admit to what they'd done out loud. Tay leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. It was no wonder she didn't have a family or even any friends. She should have been in prison or dead herself.

"You didn't kill him, Anna," Spot said.

Tay let out a low, bitter laugh. "Like it matters."

"Why were you there?"

It was a simple question but Tay struggled to answer. There were so many things that had driven her to that alley. She knew what most people would assume and that it was her grief, her anger over the miscarriage that drove her to such an extreme. The truth was so much more but it meant admitting that while she believed she could live without the baby, she did not believe she could live without Spot.

"You think you got the right to know everything about me? You don't. I don't have to tell you why I was there and I don't even have to sit here and listen to you anymore."

Tay moved to stand but her legs were jelly underneath her and she collapsed back onto the floor. The night air was humid but she was freezing and wrapped the filthy quilt around her shoulders. She didn't know why she even bothered trying. He already knew everything, _every little fucking thing_, about her. God, she wanted to hate him. It really shouldn't have been that difficult. He'd given her every reason to hate him, but she had failed miserably.

"Tay."

One word. That was it. How he managed to put so much into one little word was beyond her. She recalled the way he had said her name the night Dodge had been killed. Just the memory of it brought the feeling of butterflies in her stomach. Tay pulled the quilt tighter around her and slid back against the wall next to Spot. He wordlessly moved to the side so she had room. Tay folded her knees against her chest and tried to take up as little space as possible.

* * *

_"__Looks like your girl here still hasn't learned how to listen." Dodge tightened his grip on Tay and she felt repulsed as he pressed his face against her hair and breathed in deeply. Tay kept her eyes focused on Spot and tried to block out the sound of Dodge talking. She should have never come that night._

_"__Leave her outta this," Spot told Dodge in a voice Tay had learned to recognize as a warning that the listener was on very thin ice._

_"__But why would I when she's made it so easy for me to include her. I mean, imagine my surprise when this girl from Brooklyn shows up in my borough. And not just any girl, oh no, but the girl who every newsie this side of the river knows is Spot Conlon's most prized possession."_

_Tay fidgeted slightly in an attempt to what kind of movement was possible with Dodge's arm wrapped around her waist. He jerked her body against his and Tay grew still as Spot signaled to her by shaking his head 'no' ever so slightly._

_"__Gotta say, your bitch is more loyal than you deserve, Conlon," Dodge continued with a simpering tone. "Played me for a sucker right up to the point where she had to, well, let's just say put her money where her mouth is. I can see why you've been trying to keep her, she's got fire. Of course I didn't get to see her really light up until I found out about the little bundle of joy. Didn't quite get my money's worth but I'm sure she'll pay up once you're out of the picture."_

_"__Tay." Her eyes met his and the look in Spot's eyes told her everything. It lasted no more than a second before the storm broke open and Dodge cast Tay aside, her head struck the pavement and she lost consciousness. By the time she came to, her whole world had changed._

* * *

"What'd you think would happen?"

"I don't know," Tay answered dumbly.

"So you just decide to ignore everything I said and just put your neck on the line for what?"

"He said he was gonna kill you."

"And you believed him."

Tay heard the unmistakeable sarcasm in his voice and cursed him for ever thinking he was worth what she'd gone through for him. Smug, arrogant bastard. Why the hell should she care if anything happened to him? If anything, she knew he'd probably think it was noble or some storybook shit to die for Brooklyn. The idea made her want to laugh out loud.

Tay was startled by the feel of Spot's hand on her face as he brushed his thumb over the bruise Finn had caused earlier. If her thoughts hadn't been so addled she probably would have found the look of concern on Spot's face amusing. He'd never seemed to care when he was the one causing the damage.

"What happ-" Tay cut him off, kissing him hard and there was the briefest hesitation before Spot kissed her back with a force that equaled hers. It had been months since Tay had allowed Spot to get that close and her eyes caught the brief look of surprise as she pulled him down against her. It wasn't right or proper but Tay no longer cared. She wanted to forget, she needed to forget. His touch was as cool as ice but Tay felt her skin burn each place he touched her. He was dangerous, there was no doubt in her mind, but it no longer scared her. Part of her wanted to laugh and cry at the same time as she finally allowed herself to admit that she needed him. What Tay didn't know was that Spot desperately needed her, too.

* * *

The candle sputtered into a puddle of tallow on the floor, leaving only the weak light of the moon and stars to illuminate the broken down shed. Spot stared out over the water and waited for the first streaks of sunlight to appear in the sky. It had to be close to morning but he was hesitant to wake Tay before it was necessary. The discussion he needed to have with her was going to be difficult enough without the added pain of the headache she was going to be nursing when she did wake up.

Despite the alcohol loosening her tongue, Tay had stayed tight-lipped about what had happened in Queens and Spot was growing frustrated. Part of him understood that it was just the way things were. If anything, he had taught her a little too well about keeping secrets. But protecting her meant Spot needed more information than Tay was apparently willing to give.

There was the sound of movement from within and Tay appeared in the doorway, frowning slightly and Spot knew his prediction about her headache was right. Her brow was furrowed and she kept her lips pressed tightly together as she took a silent seat next to him. Spot offered his cigarette but Tay just waved it away. There were so many things he needed to say to her, but coming up with the right way to say it seemed to escape him. But the moments Spot had alone with Tay were few and far between and he planned on taking advantage of that.

"God, that river stinks," Tay stated before he had a chance to bring anything up.

"It's better smelling than that damn poteen," Spot joked and was relieved when Tay allowed herself a small smile. Growing up in the same shantytown had given them both a familiarity with the scent and sight of the homemade stills that existed in nearly every tenement. The cheap version Tay had been drinking the night before didn't have the same effects, but the smell was unmistakable.

"Do you ever miss that?"

"What? The smell? Or living up in those shacks?"

"No, I meant having a family," Tay explained. She kept her eyes on the water and avoided looking at Spot. "You never talk about them."

"Ain't nothing to say," Spot answered.

"Have you ever looked for any of them?"

"No."

"I just thought maybe that's why you..." Tay began but stopped herself.

"Look, I ain't like you. They never gave a shit 'bout me and I don't care if they's all at the bottom of that river."

Tay sighed but kept the rest of her thoughts to herself. He knew it was a mistake telling Tay about his mother. It was one of the only times they had talked about his family rather than hers and he preferred to keep it that way. Tay knew entirely too much about him anyway and his recalling that fact only served to stir up his resentment of her ability to get under his skin.

"I was thinking of going to see Race," Tay told him. "I wanna apologize to him. You said he's out at Sheepshead now running numbers?"

"Yeah," Spot answered and hesitated for a split second before continuing, "but you ain't going to see him."

"Why not?"

"'Cause I told you that you ain't," Spot said coldly.

"Like I ain't heard that before," Tay scorned, clearly unwilling to hear him out or take him seriously.

"And if you don't wanna end up in a pine box, you better listen this time." Spot finished the last of his cigarette and flicked the butt out into the water. Tay unfolded her legs and stood to leave Spot sitting there to consider what she'd said. He grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her back down next to him. Her eyes watered as she tried not to cry out when his grip tightened.

"You gonna break it again?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound relaxed.

Spot ignored the question. Everything was going to shit and he decided to just throw caution to the wind. "I got something we need to talk about and you ain't gonna give me your usual shit. Got it?"

Tay opened her mouth to argue but thought better of it and mutely nodded instead. He let go of her arm and she rubbed at her sore wrist, staring at Spot defiantly as he tried to put his argument together.

"I asked you for one fucking thing; stay in Brooklyn. That was it. But you got your feelings hurt over some fucking brat you didn't even want and the only thing you could think about was getting back at me. Now you got yourself so mixed up in shit that you can't even see what's going on. Your days of running off to Race or Jack every time your feelings get hurt are done. You ain't setting one foot outside Brooklyn. You ain't even leaving the waterfront. Not to go to Wallabout, not to go to Coney, and you sure as hell ain't going out to Sheepshead. Understood?"

"I never understand you," Tay mumbled.

Spot spoke slowly and carefully enunciated each word. "Yes or no. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Tay said quietly. "So, I can't see Race no more?"

"No."

"What about selling? You gonna take that away too?"

"I talked to Mags and she's gonna get you a place up at the laundry where she works on Water Street."

"I'll just run."

"Do you not understand what I'm saying?" Spot asked, growing more frustrated by the minute. "There is no more running, Anna."

She glanced up at him with a concerned look but quickly turned her eyes back towards the water. "This is about that meeting isn't it? I followed you that night. I can't believe you're doing this."

"You think I wanted to sit there, listening to some bummers who ain't worth a shit threaten to go to the bulls, or better yet just take you out themselves? And you think I enjoyed being forced to make a deal with those same assholes just to keep you safe? What choice did you give me, Tay? You decided on your own to run off, even after everything I did for you. And if that ain't enough you show up even after I told you to stay put, thinking you was just gonna take a man's life and waltz right on with your own life? You don't like what's gonna happen? You shoulda thought about that before all this."

It was much more than he had planned on revealing about his meeting on 25th street but her childish refusal to recognize the danger she was in caused Spot to lash out. He had dealt with the threat to take Tay from him the way he always did, he fought. But he'd learned that while he was the boy king of Brooklyn, there were forces out there greater than his own and protecting Tay meant making deals that would forever change her life and his.

"So it turns out you get exactly what you want. Again," Tay scorned. "And don't act like you ever did anything for me. This is all for you, it's always about you and what you want."

"Don't try that shit. You have no fucking idea the things I've done for you." For once in her stubborn life she could have just given him the slightest bit of credit.

"Yeah, this is a lovely prison you've built here," Tay told him, gesturing back toward the city.

Spot tilted her chin up until she was forced to look him in the eyes. "You built this prison, Tay. Your might as well face it. You're mine and no matter what you try to do, that ain't gonna change."

Streaks of sunlight hit the water as Tay sat silently contemplating the horizon and Spot lit another cigarette as he waited to see if she'd give in to her instinct to escape. He had always been much more inclined to fight while Tay was the complete opposite. Over and over she'd run toward what she thought would be salvation but turned out to be just another trap.

"Would you have let me keep it?" Tay asked quietly.

"You already know the answer to that," Spot told her. Tay leaned her head back against the shed and he felt a twinge of regret seeing the pained expression on her face. "That night, when Dodge said you…did he…?"

He couldn't bring himself to finish the question. The old flame of jealousy sprung to life and he wasn't sure he wanted an answer. His stomach turned at the thought of someone else touching her.

There was a long moment before Tay finally answered. "He tried. He said I had to prove I wasn't just there to spy. They called it an initiation. Told me all the girls go through it. He told me if I didn't, he'd kill you. Said he'd do it right in front of me. But then he found out. After that he went on about how I'd have to prove it some other way so he sent me back to you. But none of that matters now, right?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't," Tay told him. "You ain't gotta act like you care about me just 'cause of some story."

"I've always cared about you," Spot finally admitted. "If I didn't care you'd likely be dead in a gutter somewhere. I wouldn't have spent all that fuckin' time making sure no one else touched you. I wouldn't have lost sleep thinking about what could have happened to you while you was out there alone. And I wouldn't have killed for you."

Tay opened her mouth to protest but the words didn't come. Spot waited a moment before continuing. "Go ahead and try to say it, Anna. Tell me I mean nothing to you. Tell me you hate me. Lie."

Tay pulled Spot toward her and kissed him roughly, honestly. She broke away and leaned her forehead against his with her eyes closed. "I love you."

"Love you too." The words wouldn't change anything. The scars would heal, the walls would be rebuilt, and all that would be left was the mutual promise to pretend it never happened.


	17. Civil War

OK...so I made a mistake and deleted a chapter before this one was ready. So, to appease the poor people who saw this shoddy old thing at the top I'm gonna just throw this out there. It's the first half of an epilogue that has a bit more but that'll come along later. Hopefully not too much later. Anyway, here it is - enjoy and thank you for reading!

* * *

It was exactly as it should have been. It was a decent job. He was a decent man. It wasn't ever going to allow her access to Park Avenue but that was never something she had been interested in anyway. What she held out hope for was that maybe, just maybe it could allow her to finally (_finally)_ leave Brooklyn. Trying to leave had never been easy. Any time of day or night. Disappear. Vanish. It didn't really matter. She'd run until her lungs felt like they were going to explode in her chest only to end up having her heart betray her. But this was different and yet there were times when she felt it was exactly the same. She'd met a decent man who worked for his father at a job he'd been trained to do since he was a child. There'd always been a roof over his head. There'd always been a family there to greet him at the end of a long day.

It was exactly as it should have been.

Of course, there was always something else which was why Tay found herself sitting across the table from Racetrack at a nearly deserted lunch counter in Brooklyn. It had been two years since Tay had reconciled with Race and not long after that she had discovered he was well on his way to having a family of his own. By the time he and Tay had patched things up Race had married a girl named Emily and discovered soon after that she was expecting. Outwardly, Tay was happy for Race and for Emily but in her heart she felt a twinge of bitterness and regret every time she saw their little girl. Visiting Race at his own home was impossible as Tay still struggled with letting anyone in and Emily, while sweet, was a stranger. Tay preferred to meet with Race away from his family and she especially needed to meet with him alone that day.

"So," Race began as he set out a battered deck of cards, "what's the problem?"

"Really?" Tay asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Helps the conversation get started," Race explained with a crooked grin. "One-eyed jacks are wild. Or do you still prefer suicide kings?"

"I'm not twelve anymore, Race," Tay laughed. The first few times he had taught Tay how to play cards Race had called out any distinguishing feature he could think of to get Tay to foolishly peer closer at her cards to see if she had any that Race had claimed were wild.

"Old tricks are the best tricks, kid," Race answered as he tossed a penny onto the table as ante. Tay followed suit and studied her cards for a moment, unsure of where she wanted to start.

"What's his name again?" Race asked, not looking up from his own cards.

"Pat, well, Patrick," Tay answered. She set two cards down and waited while Race dealt her two new ones before picking them up. "He works at a bakery. It's his dad's place."

"Sticking with your own again?" Race asked with a wink.

"It ain't like you strayed very far with Emily," Tay noted as she tapped a nickel against the table, hesitating before she ended up tossing it into the pot. Money still wasn't easy to come by but it wasn't half as difficult as it had been so she was willing to take a bit of a risk. If nothing else at least Race would get his money's worth.

"Must be pretty serious for you to show up on my doorstep," Race pointed out as he met Tay's nickel with one of his own.

Tay was grateful when the waiter interrupted to drop off the food they had ordered. While Race waited for an explanation Tay concentrated on picking apart the sandwich in front of her, stalling for time. It wouldn't hurt to tell him, he'd been through so much worse with her and for her. But Tay wasn't sure she even wanted to address the feelings she'd tried so hard to lock away.

"He wants to marry me," Tay murmured without looking up.

Race let out a low whistle. "That is serious."

"He's really sweet and kind and he has a job and I think he even loves me," Tay said rapidly. "But…"

"But?" Race prompted. Tay just continued picked at the food on her plate. Race sighed as he sat back in his chair. "Spot."

"Spot," Tay repeated in a dull voice.

"Has he done something?" Race asked with a voice full of concern.

"No," Tay answered, shaking her head. That was the strange thing about her most recent relationship. It had been over six months and nothing. There had been other relationships before but something had always happened. Mysterious excuses accompanied by what she might call a case of the nerves. Tay knew very well who was behind the failure of her previous relationships. Spot seemed to have no trouble leaving his calling card and sabotaging Tay's relationships with any boy who wasn't him. But in the past few months she hadn't heard a word from him.

"Maybe he finally gave up," Race suggested after Tay explained Spot's mysterious absence to him.

"Maybe he's dead," Tay muttered. She had never dared give voice to her thoughts previously but it was the only reason she could come up with for his sudden disappearance from her life.

"He's not," Race told her. "I would have heard about it before now."

Tay's hands shook as she picked up the glass in front of her and took a drink without looking at him. The fact was that upon hearing Race's words she felt the slightest stirring of feelings she had told herself were nothing but ashes. That fire had died a long time ago and Tay wanted to believe it would stay that way.

"Could be he's married or getting married himself," Race offered, watching Tay closely. Her face turned about eight shades of red but she still refused to look up at him. "So you really ain't seen him?"

Tay had to think about the question for a moment. There were times she'd thought she'd seen him but it had turned out to be nothing but shadows. Sometimes she'd be walking down the street, heading back from work and swore he was right behind her but when she'd turned around there was no one. No, she hadn't seen him but the part she couldn't admit to Race or to anyone was that she _wanted_ to see him again.

"What are you going to tell him?" Race asked, seeing that Tay wasn't going to or couldn't answer.

"I'm not going to tell him anything, I haven't seen him in months," Tay answered. There was a slight pause and she began to blush deeply. "You meant what I'm going to tell Patrick."

"Do you love him?" It was similar to the question Race had asked her years ago when he discovered her true feelings about Spot. Tay hadn't wanted to face her feelings then and time had not changed anything. Of course she loved Patrick. She was supposed to love him. He loved her, he treated her well, he had a job and a roof over his head. Of course she loved him.

"It shouldn't be that difficult," Race told her, frowning slightly. He raised an eyebrow as he took a critical look at Tay. "You know, it don't have to be the same as it was with Spot."

"I know," Tay mumbled. "I know how I should feel, Race."

"I'll be honest, the way I see it if this kid treats you even a tiny bit better than Spot, then you need to marry him. Yesterday," Race answered.

"Did you ever feel that way about Sarah?" Tay asked, lifting her eyes to meet Race's. His face was impassive but she wasn't surprised, Race had spent years honing his poker face. Still, she noticed he hesitated for just a moment before answering.

"I thought I loved her," Race admitted. "But that was years ago and it was just pretend."

"You pretended you loved her?" Tay knew the subject was uncomfortable but she wanted to hear his answer. It might have helped her figure out her own twisted thoughts.

"It wasn't meant to be," Race told her with a small smile. "Sarah and I were just kids. When I met Em, I knew. Sometimes you gotta grow up, kid."

* * *

It had to be some kind of curse or magic spell that she had inadvertently brought to life by talking about him or saying his name one too many times. At first she thought she might have imagined him but it was no trick. Spot Conlon stood there on the front stoop of her building just as naturally as if he'd been there every day of his life. Tay was far enough away that she could have just turned and left. Or continued past the building where she rented a room and found someplace else to stay for the night. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd neglected to turn up. Tay thought briefly of continuing on down the street but decided to brush past Spot up the steps as though she hadn't even seen him.

"Tay." She stopped dead just as she'd placed the key in the locked door. One twist and she'd be inside but instead she slipped the key into her pocket and turned to face him.

"What do you want?" Tay asked. She crossed her arms and planted herself on the top step, unwilling to give him any impression that she wanted to hear his answer.

"I wanted to see you," Spot answered. Tay was stunned by the vulnerability in his voice but she kept her guard up.

"Well, you've seen me." Tay reached down and held onto the key for a moment, willing herself to place it back in the lock, open the door, and leave Spot standing there. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going inside and you can go-"

"Are you going to marry him?"

Tay's heart froze in her chest and what was only a brief moment felt like eternity as Spot stood silently waiting for an answer. He wasn't even looking at her, instead he kept his eyes down while kicking idly at the step above him. That alone was enough to tell Tay that something was very, very wrong as Spot had never been in the habit of behaving like that.

"It's none of your business," Tay finally managed to force herself to answer. She felt like slapping herself. Why hadn't she just told him that the answer was 'yes'? Yes, she was going to marry him. Yes, she was going to marry the man who had never even raised a hand to her. A man who had never killed anyone or hurt anyone. She was going to marry that man so she could finally break free and fill the hole in her heart. But for some reason the words stuck in her throat and Tay began to grow frustrated.

"Like I said, I'm going inside," Tay stated irritably. "Maybe the next time you feel like sticking your nose in my business you'll have the decency to send a note first."

"That'd be kinda tough since you change addresses every two weeks," Spot pointed out.

"Go away," Tay answered. She looked up at the darkened windows and imagined how it must have looked to any of the busy bodies inside. There she was, nearly engaged, standing on the steps in the dark talking to another man. The whole thing was absurd and so like Spot. She was going to kill Racetrack. It was clearly his doing and she was going to have more than a few words with him about it.

"There's something I wanted to show you," Spot told her. He placed his foot on the step above and held his hand out to Tay. "Please."

In seven years she had never heard Spot use the word 'please'. She wasn't even sure it was part of his vocabulary. In all the time she'd known him he'd never asked her to do anything. He'd ordered, or forced, or demanded but he never asked. Even when he'd given her a choice, it had never really been her decision. Upon hearing his request Tay was too stunned to do anything but take his hand and let him lead her down to the street.

There weren't very many people out that night and Tay picked up on the fact that Spot was leading her, not to the waterfront as she had originally assumed, but toward a familiar residential neighborhood. Neither one spoke the entire walk even though Tay had a million questions running through her mind. But she was busily trying to convince herself that she hadn't just made a colossal mistake. It didn't matter that he had asked, that he had said 'please. She should have laughed in his face. She wasn't sixteen anymore, he had no power over her. It wasn't fair to Patrick and she couldn't bear to think about how he would feel if he found out she was with another boy.

Spot paused in front of an apartment building and glanced quickly over at Tay before climbing the stairs and opening the door for her. With trepidation Tay followed Spot up a narrow set of stairs to the second floor. The room was sparse but neat and it was in far better condition than Tay expected. She noticed that Spot hadn't moved from where he stood just inside the closed door. Tay surveyed the room and the realization slowly hit her that it didn't even look as though anyone really lived there. Everything was too perfect, too neat. The thing that frightened her was that she had no idea what the hell was going on or what game Spot was playing.

"What are we doing here?" Tay asked without turning back to Spot. "If all you wanted to do was show me your apartment, then you could have just said that. You didn't have to drag me all the way up here for nothing."

"What does he call you?" Spot asked in a low voice. The question was surprising as Tay had imagined that, like her previous relationships, Spot already had all the information he wanted.

"What?" Tay asked. She was confused for a moment as she was still trying to put her finger on what was going on with the apartment.

"What does he call you?"

"Kate." Even after all that time the name did not slip easily off her tongue. It was her third name in less than ten years and it was the first time she'd chosen a name that had no connection to her family or to her past. With the new name had come a whole new personal history that allowed Tay to cut ties with her past. The fact that everything she had with Patrick was built on a lie kept her up at night, staring into the dark as she tried to make excuses for herself.

"Not Anna?" Spot asked and Tay could just barely make out the slightly hopeful edge in his voice. His whole attitude was still resigned but Tay thought she could see a small spark of light in his eyes. She wasn't going to bother answering that question.

"This was your plan?" Tay scorned as she crossed to the window and folded her arms over her chest. "You wanted to basically kidnap me, bring me to your apartment, and ask questions you already know the answer to?"

"You came willingly," Spot answered and there was the ghost of smile but it was gone before Tay could react. "And this ain't my apartment."

"So you broke into someone's apartment-"

"It's yours." Tay was too shocked to respond and stood staring at Spot. He nodded toward a partially closed door that Tay had assumed led to the bedroom. She took a hesitant step toward the room while Spot continued, "You want to know why I brought you here, right? It's for you, this place."

Tay crossed the room and pushed the door open. It led to a miniscule bedroom which was just big enough for a chest of drawers and a bed. Lying across the bed was the same quilt that she and Spot had shared in the first broken down shack they had stayed in. It was patched up and decidedly cleaner but just the sight of it made Tay's heart drop and she was flooded by memories she'd spent almost a year burying deep inside.

"You son of a bitch," Tay swore quietly. Her voice sounded far away and she held tightly to the frame of the door to steady herself. This was not how it was supposed to be. "What are you playing at?"

"I'm not playing at anything," Spot answered. Tay didn't turn but she felt him standing right behind her. "Figured you might want it. You know, for when you marry a man who doesn't even know your real name."

Tay finally spun on her heel and found herself inches from Spot, scowling at him as he gazed straight back into her eyes. It was a mistake to get that close to him. Tay felt as though she had slipped into some kind of twisted dream. It wasn't supposed to be that way. None of it mattered anymore. She couldn't put her finger on just what Spot was doing but she was not about to let him mess with her head. Again.

"I don't want it. Any of it," Tay told him coldly. There was no doubt in her mind that the apartment was probably paid for in blood money or the most recent tenant had been evicted by the unsavory people Spot worked for. "I can't believe you thought I would want anything from you. Why can't you just stay away from me?"

"I could ask you the same thing, doll-"

"Don't. I haven't seen you or thought about you since I met him so don't you -" Tay tried to side-step Spot but he didn't budge from the doorway, blocking her from exiting the bedroom. A ghost of a smirk played at the edges of Spot's mouth and nearly drove Tay to distraction.

"Liar," Spot interrupted smugly. Tay balled up her fist and fought the urge to punch him right in the mouth. He was right and she hated him for that. It had only been that very morning that she'd confessed to Race that Spot was still on her mind. He was on her mind every single day and it was infuriating.

"Did you think we'd live here?" Tay asked. Her voice was full of spite and the words tasted bitter on her tongue. The air in the apartment seemed stifling and she felt a weight pressing down on her chest. It was just another cage, another way to control her.

"No." A flicker of pain passed over his features, disappearing before Tay could even comprehend it. She understood him well enough to know that he wasn't lying. "It's for you. Do what you want with it. Rent it out if you don't want to stay here or live here…with him."

For the first time since she'd met him Tay heard Spot stumble, she heard the hesitation in his voice and it took every ounce of fight right out of her body. She had planned on laughing in his face, telling him exactly what he could do with that apartment but the way he looked at her in that moment made her mind go blank. For the second time that night, Spot reached out first to touch her. He tugged gently at a tendril of her hair that had fallen loose from her braid.

"Tell me you love him." His voice was quiet and Tay noticed Spot kept his eyes on her lock of hair as he twisted it carefully between his fingers. His touch was so familiar and she felt a stirring of emotions that could not be ignored. Tay urged herself to believe that she was imagining things and that Spot was neither as lost nor as broken as he seemed to appear. He was toying with her, playing with her emotions in the same manipulative way he always had. She felt every one of her weaknesses exposed as he stood there, demanding things that he had no right to anymore.

Tay's heart beat furiously in her chest and she took a breath before opening her mouth but the words wouldn't come out. It was all too much, standing there with the boy who had caused damage that could never be forgotten or forgiven. After all that, after everything he'd done, he'd left her. The world had crumbled around her and she'd felt numb. When she'd met Patrick she shut the door to her past and tried to ignore the constant comparisons and yearning for Spot. It wasn't fair or right and yet it was exactly what she should have expected. Spot had always claimed to know Tay better than she knew herself. Tay struggled against her feelings but the dam inside broke as tears rushed down her cheeks and she beat her fists against his chest as Spot stood immobile.

"Where the hell have you been? Do you know what it felt like when you left? After everything, after all of it, you just left me here alone." Tay's breathing had become ragged and harsh and she knew there was only one way to make it end. "I love h-"

Spot's mouth covered hers and Tay clutched at the collar of his shirt, afraid that if she didn't keep hold of something she would crumple to the floor. It had been so long since she'd been kissed by him that she'd almost forgotten the dizzying effect Spot had on her. There was the familiar blend of anger, pain, bitterness, and regret. But everything fell away as she felt his hands skim over her body, his arms circling her waist and drawing her so close that she couldn't escape even if she wanted to. Tay could barely register the fact that, for once, Spot seemed to want her just as much as she wanted him. Every part of her knew it was a mistake but she no longer cared about anything else.


End file.
